A Perfectly Legitimate Business
by ExpendableVoice
Summary: Roman Torchwick, master criminal extraordinaire, finds himself lost in a world that defies common sense. As an accomplished businessman, he is no stranger to merchant transactions, be they legal or otherwise. Yet, even he can't help but balk at the fact that, in this world, a brat with elementary knowledge will somehow be its best merchant. A Crossover between RWBY and Recettear.
1. Week 1: Debt

**Week 1: Debt  
**

* * *

Roman Torchwick was not a happy camper. Even now, he couldn't quite comprehend exactly _WHY_ he was here of all places, stuck inside a cramped one-person room, lording over some pint-sized bed with his foot against the bedframe and his mind yelling at him to just end it all already. Why exactly was he here again?

Oh, right. His job.

Yes, you heard that right. Roman Torchwick, Vale's number one most-wanted, the classiest criminal in the city, and any number of titles he didn't bother listing right now...

Has a job.

He didn't even want to think about it, dragging a finger up the bridge of his nose, brushing a bit of his hair aside as he adjusted the brim of his hat, trying to will his growing migraine away. He closed his eyes, wondering for just a moment if he was in some sort of hallucination, something brought on by one of Red's group of wanna-be heroes after they had raided some heist-gone-wrong that he couldn't remember.

Of course, that wasn't the case. Still, Roman was nothing if not persistent, and he would get to the bottom of this eventually. For now...

 ** _Crack._**

His shoes, once again, collided with the wooden frame of a particularly small bed. It had been the third time, and the occupant of the child-sized cradle still refused to get up. Even Neo wasn't this uncooperative on Sundays. The blob beneath the blankets refused to move, not in any act of defiance, but for the simple fact that it was still unconscious. This was getting him nowhere.

"Hey, Brat! You wanna wake up already?!"

"Mmmmurple... Can't eat another bite..." Those were the first signs of life Roman had heard from the bundle of stress, and already he felt his eye twitch. Not only was little ball of headache refusing to get up, it was dreaming of stuffing its face with... Who knows what.

He would do worse, but he's currently under "contract obligations" that prevented him from _strangling_ this little annoyance. And while he wasn't always the type of person to observe contract terms from mysterious multi-billion lien (Or whatever currency they use here) corporations, the fact that they acquired his Melodic Cudgel meant he had to play nice for now. At least until he had a chance to steal it back.

Which would be easy, if the company didn't use some weird dust stuff he'd never seen before. Sure, he understood lasers as much as the next criminal, but lasers that had some weird magical tracking thing, bending through the air for no logical reason was something beyond his current capabilities. And, of course, to make sure he did his job, they sent freaking Thumbelina to report his every move.

Seriously, what the hell was she? You'd think Roman was joking, but, honest-to-God, the company that stole his damned weapon leashed a freaking fairy to him. Barely a foot tall, and floating on weird holo-wings. Or just wings. He didn't even know anymo-

"... but I can always find room for yummy candy... Mimblewurble."

Okay, seriously? _Mimblewurble_? This little brat's just toying with him now, right? That just earned the thing another kick.

"Get the hell up before I sick Tinkerbell on your a-"

"Merde... For the last time, it's Tear." Roman's pint-sized overseer immediately interrupted him. "And do remember to keep your language in check during this assignment."

Of course, Torchwick never bothered to listen to that command, because the little floating figure of annoyance broke her rule all the damn time. Turning to the fairy, Roman took off his hat, bending over in an exaggerated bow as he spoke with a terribly fake smile. "As you wish. I'll endeavour to be more multicultural with my insults in the future."

"... Are you done?"

As always, their little heart-to-heart stops at this point, mainly because neither of them had the patience to spare for this banter. Or, maybe it's because "THIS FREAKING KID WON'T GET UP!" Of course he was a man of class, but he was never one to entertain annoying children. Red could attest to that.

"HeuaAAH! Who, wha, whenzit?!" Finally, the little brat gets up. It only took the man more time than it normally takes trading information with Junior. And let me tell you, he's as incompetent as they come.

With that said, it was finally time to get down to brass tacks. Torchwick adjusted his hat, straightened his coat, and finally turned his attention onto the girl. "Now, let's ge-"

"Oh, Tear! Roman! G-... G'morning!" She slurred that last part. This little brat isn't even fully awake.

Roman gave a look to Tear, which spoke volumes about how much he wanted to throttle the little kid in front of him. For the most part, Tear ignored him, turning her ire to the truant child instead.

"We don't have time for 'G'morning', Recette! Are you planning on spending the rest of your life dreaming of sweets?" Sure, the little fairy was small, but Roman did acknowledge that she had more spine than some of the people he's worked with.

Granted, they're yelling at a... 12 year old or something?

... Nah, she's still better than some of his previous contacts.

"You know, I could just save us the wait." Roman's voice was deadpanned at this point, giving a tired stare to the fairy as he drew his thumb across his neck, before pointing to the little headache known as Recette.

"We don't have time for you, either, Roman." First name basis, huh? "Today is the day we set for opening the store." Not like Roman particularly cared. It wasn't his life hanging by a hair, but the bubbly little something-year-old.

"You know what? You're twelve now." Roman's voice had absolutely no context, earning him a confused glance from Recette, and... a Tear glance from Tear. Seems no one really cares anymore at this point.

After the confounding statement by Roman, Recette turned back to the fairy, her face filled with as much confusion now as it had the day she was born without a brain. "Uh, we did?"

There was a pause. Roman growled internally, wishing they didn't take his cigars either.

"Oh yeah, we did!" Even Red wasn't this slow.

"Merde. Of all the..." And judging by the tooth fairy's response, she was sick of this too. Still, her face instantly hardened, no doubt trying to form most serious expression she could muster for something the size of his shoe. "Listen, Recette. Go wash up and make yourself presentable. And when you're done with that, join us downstairs in the storefront."

A miracle occurred, and recollection began to dawn on the little snot's face. "'Kay! I'll be right down!" The little snot with the ear-piercing voice. As Recette scampered off, Roman couldn't help but give a stare to the fairy, yeah he's finally accepted it as a fairy now, beside him.

"... This is all just convincing me to take back my stuff by force. You know, right?"

"Just follow me." Tear didn't even have time to entertain her charge, as she floated downstairs. Roman followed suit, too tired to even hum an annoying tune.

* * *

Truth be told, Roman had no idea what he was supposed to do on this job. Sure, the formal, written instructors were "Collect a debt", which normally sounded like grunt work. However, he wasn't robbing some dust merchant or pirating a supply ship or anything. No, he was supposed to somehow collect from a broke 12-year-old.

"... Capitalism Ho!" Of all the things for a brat to yell. Seriously?

Is... Is this how he dies? In another world that doesn't even understand proper business or crime?

Oh yeah, that was another thing he noticed. It seems that the people here didn't really cause crimes. At least not in this little shantytown known as Pensee. Not even him, though it wasn't for lack of trying. For whatever reason, there was literally no criminal element in this entire village. Was it due to the "adventurers" or whatever they called them? People who just walk around in broad daylight carrying whatever stabbing implements they wish? Of course, he could relate, since he always kept Melodic Cudgel on hand.

 _Except for now._

Whatever. Taking a break from his thoughts, Roman glanced back to the short-stick duo. Sounds like Tear was currently explaining a new and fundamental concept of business to the aspiring merchant kid: Namely, you can't sell stuff if you don't have stuff to sell. Real genius we're working with.

Still, he had no choice but to stand around and do absolutely nothing. Couldn't leave the sight of his overseer without losing his weapon permanently, and he'll be damned before he lets a legitimate business (Which, don't forget, SEEMS TO BE THE BEST THIS WORLD CAN DO FOR CRIME) have any excuse to keep his only item worth having.

Oh, don't make a mistake. Under normal circumstances, he'd be in a rush to retrieve his signature weapon/cane—Don't want anyone finding out all the neat little tricks his toy can do. But there was enough ominous security things to give _him_ a second thought, especially since he didn't have Neo to bail him out. Yet, he wasn't exactly worried about it, because honestly? He was fairly certain the local geniuses wouldn't even consider touching it. They seemed so smart in some areas, and so utterly incompetent in many more.

Oh well, not like it was loaded with dust at the moment, anyways. They probably thought it just had sentimental value.

Letting out a sigh, Torchwick noticed that little miss diabetes and Tinkerbell had finally decided to approach him. Maybe now he'd be able to do something more than play angry guard dog. That was more of the White Fang's thing, after all.

"We're going to visit the merchant guild to establish contacts. Then, after that, we'll purchase some stuff from the markets to sell in the store." The blue fairy had the same no-nonsense tone she always tried carry, but the master criminal could tell that his tiny overseer was exhausted. Hey, the brat was her problem, not his. More importantly...

"... You mean we'll negotiate stuff from some local suppliers and farmers, right?" There was doubt in Roman's voice. He was sure that he was missing some critical piece of information that the fairy simply neglected to tell him.

"No, we shall be visiting the market to purchase items from those stalls, then stocking those items here in the store." Tear's message was simple, short, and effective.

And the message's content drove Roman insane. Because this was somehow a legitimate business strategy, where you can walk into one part of town, buy everything below cost, then sell it at twice that price at another part of town without anyone complaining.

What is wrong with this world?


	2. Week 1: The Merchant's Guild

**Week 1: The Merchant's Guild**

* * *

There are some things in life that you simply have to admit. Some people may choose to avoid them, while others keep putting it on hold until it barely registers at the back of their mind. However, life will eventually drag these things out into the open. Without fail, I might add. Even a man like Roman Torchwick has a few things he'd rather not admit.

So, with that said...

This may come as a surprise to you, especially for all you kids out there, but the man named Roman was not flawless. Just like the rest of you schmucks, there are some instances in time where someone such as himself is capable of making a mistake or two.

I know! Who would've guessed, right?

Yet, while the master criminal was many things (smart, well dressed, physically capable, musically inclined, and a respectable chef to name a few), he would never have the hubris to consider himself flawless. Sure, he may never admit to them, but the classy crook knew that he could still, once in a while, make an error in judgement. To think otherwise would just be setting himself up for failure.

Or, in this case, disappointment.

After the little discussion with the talking feather-duster, he had expected _someone_ to make an insightful comment about how ludicrous their business plan was. Sure, he hadn't necessarily expected Tinkerbell to be the one to point out the flaw—it would've been nice, of course—but the man had prayed that some force out there would've noticed a problem. A passing stranger? A representative from this merchant guild group? Hell, he would've even taken _Red_ at this point, and that's saying something.

"Aww, but I wanted to leave through the window, like an action hero!" Unfortunately, a painfully high-pitched voice shattered his hopes and dreams. After all, that would've been sensible. And we can't have that, can we? That fact that he dared to hope otherwise was his third mistake in this stupid world.

"TO ETERNITY AN-"

"RECETTE!"

"Oh, Okaaaaaay..."

Of course, the peanut gallery was his second mistake. Well, not them specifically, but rather the fact that he had expected them to be anything more than a child and a floating kid's toy. You'd think that even a twelve-year-old would try to shape up when they're faced with the cold, harsh truth of being hopelessly in debt. After all, reality had an excellent way of shaping people up, from his experience.

But nope! Here she was, shouting like some bad comic book character while running full tilt to the front of the room. Unfortunately, the fairy managed to stop her before she actually dove out of the window, and Roman had to find something else to entertain himself. Or, you know, they could actually do whatever it was they had planned to do.

"Look, can we just get going already?" The fact that it fell to him to keep the ball rolling irritated the man to no end. Just how did he end up being the babysitter of these two, anyways?

Oh, right. The barely-legal contract-debt thing. For you folks keeping track back home, that was mistake number one.

"Okay Roman! Let's go!" With far too much energy for a kid her size, the twelve-year-old merchant hopped out the door.

* * *

Thankfully, the little trek to the Merchant's Guild was uneventful, as it merely consisted of the brat talking the fairy's ear off, explaining the intricacies behind her little superhero fantasy. For obvious reasons, Roman didn't pay much attention, casually walking behind the two as his eyes flickered from street to street.

Unfortunately, the little village of Pensee didn't have much to offer, and most of the people on the streets were merely idle townsfolk going on with their day to day lives.

Which was why the man was thankful when they finally reached their destination. Sure, he enjoyed morning walks as much as the next criminal lynchpin, but he usually got a few things done during them, too. Enjoy a new brand of cigar, find a new place to rob, blow off Cinder for a few hours... Yet, the only thing he managed to accomplish during this little waste of time was confirm that this town had nothing in the way of motorized vehicles.

Recette sprinted forward the moment they entered the guild hall, making her way up to the front desk with reckless abandon. Tear quickly followed, while Roman took his sweet time, eyes casually glancing around the room.

Decent stonework, tiled floors, amateur finish on the counter, and the counter itself had some cheap cloth over it. Not the worst place he'd seen, by any means. The person in charge, however...

Torchwick's eyes fell on the Guild Master, and immediately groaned internally. Bad facial hair, a dull look in his eyes, stupidly large eyebrows... If it wasn't for the brown hair and lack of gloves, he would've mistaken the waste of space in front of him for Junior. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, since he definitely could use some information right about now.

"Hello!" Recette was the first to speak, a wide smile plastered on her face as she approached the Guild Master. Okay, given the fact that he was returning the smile, Roman wasn't sure how he could've mistaken the man as Junior in the first place.

"Hm! A girl, a fairy, and a man in a suit! You three are..." There it is. The gradual process of thought observation turning into thought, the slow sounds of comprehension dawning at snail-breaking speeds. _Those_ were the Junior traits he knew and tolerated. "Yes, you're Recette, that loan-shark, and her hired muscle!"

Huh. Can it be? Was there truly someone insightful in this stupid town? Maybe these guild things have some merit after all, weeding out the-

"While that is not... well, an INcorrect assessment, could I ask that you refrain from calling me a 'loan-shark'?" Tear was the first to speak up, interrupting the rogue's concentration with a look of irritation in her eyes.

"That's right, mister! The three of us are partners! Don't be mean!" The brat was the next to follow, and though the frown she wore barely qualified as one, it was still the most confrontational that Roman had ever seen her pull off.

"Hahaha! Forgive me, forgive me! Partners it is!"

So much for weeding out the riffraff. Given how quickly the man caved when the brat said that they're-...

"Wait. What? When did I agree to that?" This was the first time he had heard of anything like that, and honestly, the criminal had no idea how to respond. He was never comfortable having his name tied to anything, and the fact that he's suddenly a co-owner of a glorified lemonade stand—with who knows how much debt—only made it that much worse.

"What do you mean, Roman? You're friends with Tear, and you're both helping me with the shop, so of course we're all partners!"

And Recette heard none of Torchwick's thoughts as she smiled up at him. It wasn't the same mocking smile that Neo often gave whenever she stole his wallet for her ice cream runs, nor was it the one that Cinder was so fond of whenever she was plotting... whatever it was. It wasn't even the sarcastic smile that Perry always gave whenever the thief insulted him.

Nope. The one that the little bundle of stress gave him was a genuine, honest-to-god smile.

The only thing he could do was return the gesture. He was a man of class, after all, so the criminal merely smiled back, while the rest of his very being struggled against the urge to punt the kid out the nearest window.

"So!" The Guild Master interrupted his thoughts before things got... kick-y. "How're the preparations for running that shop coming along?"

"Quite well, thank you. In fact, we planned on opening today, so we stopped by in order to show our gratitude for your help."

"Ha! Very good! You two know what's what!" Another genuine smile. Not one that had any sort of malicious undertone, like the one that the boss of whatever the loan company, Something-or-other Financing, had. "If you have any problems, let me know. I'll be glad to help!"

"We appreciate your kindness, thank you."

Throughout that entire conversation, Roman stayed quiet. He was used to these little formal exchanges, after all. However, the man had absolutely no idea that _genuine_ expressions of gratitude were this much more irritating. You'd think that they'd be more pleasant, but nope, Roman would much rather risk getting double-crossed than listen to any more of th-

"Um... We appreciate your kindness! Thank you very much!" Recette's insufferably chipper voice broke his train of thought. Again. Hopefully this won't be a hab- "C'mon, Roman! You too!"

His eye twitched, as he plastered on another forced smile. And with that smile came the thoughts of a punted twelve-year-old, one that he really had to struggle with to push out of his mind. Thankfully, it looked like no one noticed his internal dilemma, as the Guild Master immediately changed topics, stepping up behind the counter.

"So! You came straight here to pick up some merchandise, right? Well, up to the counter, then! Let's get you three sorted!"

Finally, it was time to talk business. Roman was about take a look at the inventory, before he noticed the stern look on the little fairy's face. On one hand, she only ever got like that when she had something important to say. On that other hand, she was facing Recette, so whether or not the information would be something beyond common sense was a toss up.

"This is our first time stocking up. Our funds are limited, so do not go completely overboard..."

He tuned out the rest of the lecture. Of course, it was something simple. Why would it be anything else?

* * *

Roman was taking his time, looking over something called a 'Magician's staff'. The tag on the carved chunk of wood priced it at 850 pix. Now, ignoring the fact that their currency was called pix, he still wasn't too sure whether the stick was overpriced, or whether the brat was underfunded. Recette's starting capital was a generous 1000 pix, which didn't leave the kid a lot of wriggle room.

As he twirled the oversized stick in one hand, the criminal couldn't help but wonder if this debt was even a legitimate debt in the first place. I mean, usually, when you want someone to pay you back, you either get them to pay you back, or you make them work for it. Technically, they were making the kid work for it... But weren't there smarter ways? Unsurprisingly, the number of times he'd consider collecting on a debt by teaching a person economics, before sending them off to be an entrepreneur was a resounding 0.

Then again, he's never had to collect from someone so headache-inducing as the little child here.

With that thought, Roman threw a glance at Recette, watching as she carefully appraised two identical Souvenir charms, each made out of the same cheap material. The look on her face was almost thoughtful, in a deer-in-headlights sort of way. If the deer in question was cluelessly staring itself down in a mirror. Or... something.

Okay, so the metaphor was lost, but can you blame him? Roman literally had no reason to be here. The fairy was taking her time with Recette, carefully explaining each individual item, all because she kept asking stupid questions. And while he was glad he didn't have to play encyclopedia for the brat, the idea of doing absolutely nothing wasn't that much better.

His eyes turned to the Guild Master for just a moment, who was mostly content with filling out a ledger of some kind. For what it was worth, Roman had actually contemplated the idea of introducing himself, in order to establish some sort of trade network. He'd need resources for his plans, and he could do a lot worse than using this place as a focal point.

Or... He could just swipe the ledger itself, and check out what other merchants were operating in the area. The Guild Master certainly seemed to be a by-the-books kind of worker, which were the easiest to exploit. All it took to distract the man was a quick question about other kinds of weapons, and the Guild Master volunteered himself that he check the back.

With that out of the way, Roman could finally check the... ledger...

... Why was this thing empty? Was it just a new book? No, that's not right. The pages are worn, and the cover was anything but pristine.

Now that he thought about it, there was no one else in the guild hall. It was literally just the guild master; He didn't even see anyone enter or leave the building on their way over here. Was... was this kid the only guild-sanctioned shop in this town? That _can't_ be right.

He'll have to look into it later. For now, though, his headache was getting worse. Rather than try to question anything, the man decided to busy himself by browsing the items in stock. Scrap plate, wool hat, worn swords... All sorts of discount stuff that people probably didn't care about. There was decent looking knife in the pile, but that disappear for some strange, Roman-unrelated reason.

It didn't take too long before the aspiring merchant picked out her favourites among the junk pile, and after a final gift—a chunk of walnut bread judging by Recette's annoying voice—from the Guild Master, Thumbelina and the brat were ready to move on.

"... Capitalism, ho!"

"Well, Adam Smith would be proud of us, at any rate..."

Somehow, Roman doubted that.

Still, it was finally time to go, and with a new knife in his pocket, Torchwick calmly followed them out.


	3. Week 1: Business

**Week 1: Business**

* * *

Roman Torchwick was bored.

A common theme, really, since the duo of diabetes and that damned... damnit. There's no proper fairy word that starts with a "D".

That thought alone should provide enough insight to how painstakingly bored the master thief was. And, as stated before, the reason for this is none other than the moronic pair of Recette and Tear. As much fun as it'd be to think up of other fairy tale fairies to insult Tinkerbell with, Roman Torchwick had better things to do.

At least, he hoped he did. He honestly did not want to spend his waking moments attempting to come up with half-hearted insults for something he could just as easily squish with a fly-swatter. Maybe he should risk trying to pay attention to what the two store owners were up to?

And yes, _two_. Roman absolutely refuses to have any part in this business venture; Not only was it doomed to fail, it was doomed to fail by exploding head-first into a poorly planned White Fang raid that involved a lot of cleavers and a lot more security airship fleets. Or robots.

Ah, how he missed those animals. Wonder what they're up to now?

"Very well. It is time to give you a 'crash course' on the basics of running an item shop." Of course, Roman's musings were interrupted by the stern voice of a certain annoying fairy. Then again, if he was stuck reminiscing about White Fang of all things, that only meant one of two things: That he was going senile, or that he was **bored**.

"Okay! What do I do first?"

A chipper voice gleefully reminded him the benefits of waning cognitive thought, but the master criminal decided against doing any permanent damage for now. Instead, he straightened himself up, no longer leaning against a wooden support pillar as he stared at the two.

"First, we need to put some items on display."

They were really doing this, weren't they? The kid and the fairy had freaking _smiles_ plastered on their face, too. No one in the group was being sarcastic or willfully ignorant, and this just drove the man to tears. Figurative tears, of course; Roman wasn't going to waste his time crying over two morons. Two morons that had to spell out the obvious.

"If we do not have our goods out for people to see, we can hardly expect the customers to buy them, after all!" Floating Moron A cheerfully reminded the kid how simple logic worked.

You know, maybe Roman was looking at this the wrong way. He knew firsthand that adapting to society wasn't always a smooth transition. Maybe fairies were just so utterly literal that they had to-

"So I just need to get near these counters?"

Or maybe dealing with Recette was just a special case. On one hand, Roman recognized that the little brunette brat was only twelve, and probably couldn't understand basic concepts like cause-and-effect, math, or gravity. Yet, on the other hand, this was the exact same kid that he had been told at laser-gunpoint—long story—to help squeeze some money from. It was the fairy's bright idea to turn this house into an item store, one which eluded the thief to this day. Roman shot a glare to the fairy, as if willing her to give him an answer.

Tear, for the most part, ignored him as she continued with her explanation. "Just so. Once you know where you wish to place something, choose what you wish to place in that spot by pressing the "primary" button."

... The what now?

"Primary... button?..."

Okay, judging by the fact that the kid had no idea what a primary button is, we can safely say that Tear's gone insane. What's the average shelf life for fairy brains, anyways? Regardless, that was the criminal's cue to stop paying attention. Roman instead turned his gaze to the knife he had pilfered from the Merchant's Guild. Honestly, it wasn't that bad of a tool. It was called a craftsman's knife, and for good reason, as there were all sorts of crafts the criminal could think of that'd make use of this blade.

Sure, most of them involved breaking and entering, but that was just his personal biases. There were plenty of other uses for a solid blade. He just didn't have the energy for figuring that out today.

Besides, what self-respecting mastermind would take up woodworking? Granted, he _had_ put together Melodic Cudgel... Most of it, at any rate. The parts he didn't steal? Either way, Roman was relatively good with his hands, and if this little lecture was any indication, he'd have plenty of time to waste in this stupid world.

By now, the ditz of a kid was putting the various scraps of stuff in the counters. She was just about to place a hat by the window counter when the fairy chimed in once more.

"Recette. may I speak with you for a moment?" Tear had a serious look on her face, but by now, Roman was convinced that she had some stupid bit of trivia that should've been common sense.

"Sure. What is it?"

At the same time, the brunette child had that annoying expression plastered on her face that was completely devoid of all understanding. This was going to be one of _those_ explanations, wasn't it?

"Those counters by the window..."

The criminal prayed for that impossible: That she wasn't going to say something absurdly obvious, like 'people can see through those windows'. Of course, like everything else so far, his hopes and dreams were dashed in an instant, as the blue fairy spoke continued.

"Items you place there are visible to anyone passing by on the street. As such, putting 'eye-catching' items..." And there she goes, off on another little tangent about another trivial matter.

The way the fairy seemed so sure of herself when making that lecture was almost heartening. Well, heartening for others, of course. Roman himself just felt exhausted by the constant repeating lectures of stuff that should really be obvious.

He was also getting tired of his own mind complaining about these matters, which spoke volumes about how _bored_ he was. Wasn't there something he could do? Maybe he'd take up a hobby. Something that involved that knife.

"...So choose what to place there very, very carefully."

"Wow, I never thought about it like that..."

Of course you didn't, brat. You're twelve. The criminal was tempted to reclassify the kid as a ten year old, but decided against it, since she still at least tried to-

"Hokai! I'll be careful!"

 _... Very_ tempted. He needed a cigar.

* * *

"Alright. That should do for displaying our wares."

Sounds like the kid was finally done. Roman sighed and looked down on his watch, before realizing that he didn't wear a watch anymore. Instead, he took out his Scroll, his eyes fixed on the glowing display. As usual, there was no signal, but since this place _somehow_ had electricity despite being a backwater town, he still had _something_ useful. And judging by his tablet, they had spent a good half hour laying things out. And re-laying things out.

That little ball of annoyance sure was indecisive.

"...Are you sure it doesn't look dumb? I..."

"Do not worry. Everything looks good enough for a first attempt." Tear gave the little girl a reassuring smile, before returning to her 'lecture mode' expression. "Now I need to teach you how to actually sell things. Please go sit at the counter. Roman, please accompany her."

"Right-o!"

"As you wish, fearless leader." Sarcasm was his only reprieve now. There was nothing else to keep his sanity intact, and he resigned himself to his fate.

Recette quickly darted over behind the counters, her arms splayed out as she sprinted like a child. It really was an odd contrast from the fairy, and one of the many reasons why Roman couldn't look at this as anything but a babysitting job.

Which didn't make it better.

"Well then, the items are in place, and now you need to learn how to actually sell things to people without embarrassing yourself!"

Was it just him, or was the fairy getting sick and tired of Recette's antics as well? Roman shot a curious glance at Tear, who ignored him as always.

"O-kai-o!"

And, like always, Recetted butchered the local language. That was identical to theirs. Both in writing and in speech. Another thing to go on the pile of stuff Roman didn't have time to care about.

"So, to start with, I will lecture on the actual process of selling an item we have displayed."

"Yes, professor!"

Another lecture for Roman to tune out. However, he didn't even have the luxury of looking at his stolen weapon this time, as the little fairy would be sure to call him out.

"Er, um, uh, ah..."

"What they want will be in the 'target' window. You will also be able to see the name and base price. Pay close attention to that base price! Also, if you press button 3, you can view expanded information on the item in question. Consult the ' ' program included with Recettear if you wish to check or alter your button configuration."

"Wait... 'Button 3'? ' '?"

"Focus, Recette. Your life is hard enough to control as it is."

See, on one hand, Roman was confused about the button and program bits. But on the other hand, he was equally confused by the fact that Recette _wasn't_ confused about the 'target' window things. She wasn't questioning how she was able to see the name and base price of an item, which in and of itself was something absurdly weird. On multiple levels.

Was this this place's equivalent to semblances? The magical ability to see _market prices_? The criminal took back everything he said about the brat, if this was actually true.

Granted, whether or not it was actually true was another matter entirely. Given what he's seen of Recette so far, Roman just wasn't sure whether this was an actual trait, or just the kid missing an unfamiliar term because three more popped up.

In fact, he was about to go with that second explanation when he heard Tinkerbell wrapping up her lecture, as she rambled out some final conclusion about haggling and customer interaction.

"...Well. Time to put theory into practice."

"Uhm, okay!"

The next moment was ... eye-opening for Roman. Tear took out a steel broadsword. He wasn't quite sure from _where_ , but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Recette hadn't seen the item before, and shouldn't have really known what its name and price were. Yet, the little girl only took a few moments to glance at the item, before spouting out some price. 3650 Pix? Was that right?

Judging by the expression that the fairy gave, Recette's suggested price was spot on. This happened a few more times, as the Fairy took out a few more blades, each different from the last. And each time she asked for a price, the little brat gave out the properly appraised value.

Roman missed the rest of the conversation. This had... implications. He wasn't too sure _what_ , yet. Hell, he had no idea whether it was even a fluke or not, but it was becoming increasingly unlikely.

"We still have a little bit of time left today, so let us go ahead and open the store proper. If anyone comes in, simply handle them in the same way we practiced." Tear's words broke the man out of his thoughts. Partially. He was very resilient when it came to thinking up plans, and months of having to deal with a bored Neo meant he had a fairly high environmental tolerance.

"Whoa. Are you sure it'll be okay?" On the other hand, Neo never talked. Which was a good thing, because if she did, and she had the same annoying voice as Recette, Roman would've retired long ago.

"Do not worry. As the saying goes, salesmanship is more of an art than it is a science. You'll learn as you go. Now then, I will open us up. Go on and sit at the counter."

"Okey-day!"

Welp, that settled it. Whatever plan he was trying to think of went up in a puff of diabetic smoke. Still, he had to put on appearances, and since the fairy was finally opening the shop, Roman brushed the dust off of his suit. Within moments, the first customer entered, an older woman who accepted Recette's ear-piercing greeting with a smile.

The woman quickly walking around the room for a bit before picking up the walnut bread from earlier. Roman's face was impassive as he contemplated the consequences of storing baked goods out in the open like that.

"This, please."

"Okay!"

The exchange itself was swift, as Recette quickly spouted out some price. Again, Roman had no clue what the market value for freshly baked gift-bread was, but apparently the girl knew, as she beamed with delight at the sale.

"Glee! I sold Walnut Bread for 120pix!"

No other customers came in that day, but that didn't seem to put a damper on the girl's enthusiasm. She was all chipper and... wait. No, she's silent. This caused Torchwick to raise an eyebrow, since that little ball of annoyance rarely stood still for more than a few moments.

"Congratulations. You did well."

"... I sold stuff." Recette's voice was quiet, as if in complete awe of her "I - me. Recette - I sold stuff. Like, to people."

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey, Tear?" The kid's beady eyes shot up to her fairy companion, her voice quivering as her vision shot from Tear to the criminal. "I... I'm so happy! I... I did it! Tear! Roman! I did it!" Her joy was palpable. And sickening. Hopefully it didn't get on his clothes.

But even Roman couldn't snap at the girl, as she continued cheering. Honestly, this was too much for the man, and the only thing the coated criminal could do was to let out a sigh, as he made his out the door. After all, the fairy was distracted enough that he'd be able to sneak a quick smoke break outside, right? Maybe even cause some mischief and-

"Papa... I did it!..." Those last words were muted, but even if he was halfway out the door, a man like Roman could hear them perfectly.

Maybe he'd hold off on the mayhem for today.


	4. Week 1: An Adventure

**Week 1: An Adventure**

* * *

Oh, who was he kidding?

When did the pointless musings of a little brat ever stop someone like Roman Torchwick? And no need to think about that one, kids, because the answer is "never".

In fact, the only reason he had decided to put the mayhem on hold was because there was literally no point to it. He had no consolidated power base, no disposable minions, not even a place to store his extra suits. So, at best, causing trouble would only be a form of relieving stress.

Not that he didn't consider it, given today's events. Still, now wasn't the time for shenanigans.

Instead, he had a rare opportunity. Since the two idiots were content to pat eachother on the back for their glorified lemonade stand, Roman Torchwick finally had some time to himself. Neither of them seemed to notice as he slipped out the front door, and the master thief was nimble enough to be out of earshot by the time Tinkerbell noticed his absence.

First things first, he'd take a proper look at this little town.

After all, the reason for this little departure was purely because he needed to get more information. It certainly had nothing to do with that headache-inducing mood that seemed to radiate from the little midget merchant. Nor did it have anything to do with his unwillingness to stand around doing absolutely nothing for the evening, either.

Wait, no. Those were his real reasons. Information gathering was just a pretense.

He didn't even want to think about what duties the annoying little fairy had in mind for him. So far, his tasks had amounted to nothing more than a glorified alarm clock and an unarmed bodyguard. Couldn't they see that they were squandering his potential? I mean, c'mon! Even the merchant guild master had him confused for some common criminal. That was just insulting.

Either way, night would be falling soon, and that's when Roman worked best. So, rather than idle about any further, Torchwick went to work, taking just a moment to collect his bearings. While the Fairy's little tour was hilariously inadequate, it still managed to give the man enough of an outline of the town.

 _'Fairly certain Thumbelina said the shop's at the south. And we went to the east side for that stupid guild visit, so...'_ Roman barely wasted anytime drawing up a new plan of action. After all, he didn't want to deal with Junior's illegitimate cousin again, so he might as well check the western part of...

Actually, wandering off without much of a plan didn't sit right with Torchwick. So, first order of business would be to get an actual map of Pensee. As much as he'd loved the prospects of fumbling around in the dark, mentally plotting out the alleyways so that he could draw up a halfhearted map, he had a better idea. There were other alternatives to getting information, and this town seemed stupid enough to help the man.

The rogue immediately turned his attention to one of the wandering townsfolk, no doubt returning to their home after a day of doing whatever it was these idiots did.

"Good evening, ma'am. I can't help but notice that you're one of the ... insightful locals here at Pensee." Roman's face was nothing but smiles as he greeted the woman, the polite air of a gentleman gangster second nature to him. "I'm new to town, myself, so I was wondering if you could direct me towards a ... town directory?"

That's what those little backwater villages called their annoying maps, right? Really, Roman preferred the city to those places.

"Oh? Is that so? I believe I saw you at the new shop that opened today... Are you perhaps one of the staff who work there?"

If the woman saw Roman's face twitch, she didn't mention it. He did _not_ want his new criminal career to start off by being associated with that place.

"What was it called? Oh, yes... I think it was 'Recettear and Roman too'? That second sign attached to the larger one is certainly a charming addi...tion. Are you alright, sir?"

Well, at least that answered his question. The woman had definitely spotted Roman twitching with irrational anger. Still, he tried to keep his facade up, his motions animated and forced as he slowly turned his head back to the distant shop.

Yep. There it was.

Situated at the top of the hill, he could clearly see the little brat's stupid shop, with an elaborate sign labeled "Recettear", and a smaller square slab that read "(And Roman too)", tilted slightly below it. Sometimes, his perfect eyesight was a blessing. Other times, he just hated children.

It took the thief a few moments to gather himself. It was a testament to his professionalism that he maintained his smile, slowly turning his attention back to the woman who had assisted him. And it was truly a miracle that he managed to keep his voice in check, somehow keeping it the same conversational tone that it had started with.

"... You must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't believe I'm associated with them." Oh, how he wished that were true right now. He was this close to just cutting ties with them, even if that stupid company still had Melodic Cudgel. He could steal it back some other way, right? ... Probably shouldn't risk it yet.

"My mistake, then. In that case, you must be an adventurer." The woman took one look at Roman's unique outfit, before nodding to herself, as if confirming her suspicions. "But if you're new in town, you should check in with the local Adventurer's guild. Their guild quarters is at the north side of Pensee, just over there."

Roman's gaze followed her gesture, as she pointed towards the only other notable building in the distance. Well, notable in the sense that it was massive and walled. He had personally thought that it was some kind of prison, but hey, if that's where people stuffed adventurers, he didn't complain.

"It's a bit late, but they should still be able to help you settle in."

"Thank you for that... Ma'am." By this point, Roman's voice was strained, and he quickly left before his conversation partner could voice her concerns.

Not that he cared. Seriously, 'And Roman too'? He wasn't sure whether he was annoyed or just... tired. This was too much irritation for him to deal with at the moment.

Maybe mayhem had some merit after all...

* * *

Roman couldn't help but give out a tired sigh. Sure, a curse would've suited his mood better, but now was hardly the time to be petty.

To be fair, visiting the adventurer's guild for information had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time. After thanking the woman for the information, he had a run-in with a few more townsfolk, each person happily directing him to the guild, and each person failing to notice his deft pickpocketing skills. By the time he had arrived, the crook had amassed a respectable amount of local currency.

Not enough to make this a lucrative habit, by any means, but he was certain it was enough to purchase some information should the need arise.

Unfortunately, his sudden arrival into the guild hall did not go unnoticed. That fact by itself might not have given the rogue cause for complaint... However, he had been noticed by people who weren't completely incompetent, as one of the receptionists at the front desk greeted him cheerfully. This immediately put him under the spotlight, and as much as he'd like to garner criminal attention, that usually came _after_ he had set himself up.

So, rather than draw anymore unnecessary attention to himself, Torchwick approached the front desk.

The problem was, the receptionist recognized the man as more than just the common townsfolk, and she immediately asked him to present his guild card. When he informed her that he didn't have one, and was new to the city, she immediately pegged him as an aspiring adventurer. While Torchwick's life was adventurous in its own right, the last thing he wanted to do was to play part-time trans-dimensional huntsman.

Roman would've left right then and there if it wasn't for the fact that the receptionist brought up the prospect of riches and power. Not directly, of course, but it was something she mentioned when she went into some long discussion about why others chose the occupation. This was an interesting tidbit of information.

Sure, he had his doubts, since none of the adventurers present seemed rich or powerful, but it never hurt to gather a bit more knowledge on the subject. And the whole reason he was out and about today was for information. So, rather than declining, he had found himself signing up for an introduction to adventuring, courtesy of some old man's pocket change.

Which brought him to his current predicament.

Here he was, seated like some kid in a room, along with a bunch of other wide-eyed idiots, learning about the basics of "dungeoneering". That wasn't a term he made up, by the way, that's honestly what the lecture was called: Dungeoneering 101.

For the most part, it talked about things that should've been common sense, ranging from 'Knowing how to fight, you idiots' to 'Carry some damned supplies, you morons'. Sure, maybe the topics weren't titled _exactly_ like that, but he didn't care at this point. There was also one part about how the same dungeon was never the same, but rather than try to figure out what that meant, Roman shrugged it off. Really, he was about to write the entire thing off as a waste of money, until the person changed topic to something else.

"...Which brings us to how adventurers get stronger. Power Crystals." The way the lecturer said it brought a single raised eyebrow from the thief.

And now that he was finally paying attention, Roman had realized the lecturer was some brat-sized brat with green hair, wearing some oversized robes. And, propped up against the chalkboard, was a stick nearly twice the size of the little midget. Honestly, just what was it with kids these days?

"Most of you adventurers refer to them as 'experience gems', but what they're called doesn't really matter. These crystals are released whenever you defeat a monster in the dungeon, and each one contains some power of the dungeon within it. By absorbing its energies, adventurers are able to improve themselves, both in mind and body. Now, we don't quite understand the relationship between monsters and dungeons, nor do we really understand the crystals themselves."

Magic crystals that pop out when you murder monsters. Got it. Not that _that_ made sense to Roman either, but apparently, this world was severely lacking in the logic department.

"However, there have been many attempts to research them, both in the past and now. However none of these projects have born much fruit. Even today, the dungeons are still poorly understood, both by Kingdom's academic community and by... adventurers such as..."

The brat seemed like he wanted to go in a long explanation, but neither Roman nor any of the other adventurers were particularly interested. It didn't take much for the kid to notice, and instead, he flashed an indignant glare the rest of the group.

"Alright then. Since most of you don't care, I'll just speak in a way you can all understand. When you kill a monster, they drop gems. Gems make you stronger. I hope that's simple enough for you idiots to comprehend."

"Hey!" That's when one of the prospective adventurers spoke up. It was a female voice, one that was equally as childish as their lecturer. "We're not idiots! You're the idiot!"

Normally, he'd comment sarcastically on the rebuttal, but there were two reasons why he didn't. One, it wasn't him being insulted, so he didn't care. And two... Roman had to leave. Not because he was tired of the lecture, though he certainly was.

No. The reason why the master criminal had decided to depart was because that voice was familiar to him. And since he _wasn't_ an idiot, it didn't take long for Torchwick to pin a name and face to the mystery voice. Not that it was difficult, since the woman in question had caused the rogue no small amount of trouble.

So, it was time to leave.

"What? Just who do you think you're talking to? You're the morons who asked my tutelage in the first place! I could be doing something important right now, instead of hosting this session with ingrates like _you_." Roman didn't need to see who the robed kid was pointing at. Nor did he really need to be present for the shouting match that soon occurred.

Just before things escalated, the suited crime-lord rose from his seat, as he made his way to the door. He maintained a brisk pace, professional and directed, which meant that people kept out of his way as he stepped outside. And without any complains, Roman left the room, no one the wiser as he made his way down the hall. It took a fair amount of control on his part to not to turn around, at least not until he reached the reception area.

The last thing he needed was a run-in with _her_. What was she even doing here in the first place? It made absolutely no sen-

"Excuse me sir, is everything alright?" The receptionist's voice snapped Roman out of his musings, and he quickly turned his attention to the woman.

"Oh, no need to worry about me. I managed to get the gist of the lecture, so I figure I should be heading back for the day."

"I understand. Still, since you paid for the official beginner course, here is your preliminary guild card. With it, you can access the Hall of Trials whenever you want." She gestured to another hall, opposite from the one he came from. "If you manage to succeed the test, you will be a fully-fledged adventurer, and will be able to enjoy all the perks that come with such a position. Do you have any questions?"

Roman simply shook his head, more inclined to leave than anything else.

"Very well. Have a nice day!" The receptionist gave her best farewell, not even noticing that the man she was conversing with had long left the hall.


	5. Week 1: The Next Day

**Week 1: The Next Day**

* * *

"And just where exactly did you run off to?"

Was it really surprising that the first thing Roman saw when he arrived back at the shop was an annoyed fairy? Granted, he had left the pocket-sized annoyance with the brat-sized annoyance, and half expected to see her drowning herself in whatever the fairy equivalent of cheap alcohol was. Instead, she was simply floating by the shop counter, glaring at him with narrowed eyes the moment he entered the building.

"Oh, you know how it is in this economy. Working late to make some money on the side and all that." The criminal saw no point in answering her properly, of course, and merely shrugged off her question, making his way to his little room instead.

At least, that's what he would've done if it wasn't for the fact that the floating nightlight tried to block his way.

"Need I remind you of your contract details, Mr. Torchwick?" And again, the fairy was in lecture mode. Sure, she might've been imposing to a kid like Recette, but there was honestly nothing less threatening than something the size of your Scroll yapping at you.

Which brought the criminal's mind back on track, really.

There was something he needed to check, and he needed to grab his Scroll to do that. Unfortunately, the device was currently under 'custody' of his fairy overseer, one of the many annoying points that had wormed its way into the silly contract that had been forced upon him. You know, the contract that the travel-sized secretary was currently yapping about.

"I know, I know. Stand around doing nothing while you teach the brat how to sell things. I love the involvement on my part, you know? Really hands-on with the decision making process." Ah, banter. The only thing that makes this pointless job worthwhile. It was almost as entertaining as yelling at hired hands, really.

"If you have a problem with our arrangements, you are free to voice them. However, that does _not_ give you free reign to act independently."

And surprising no one, Tear was not quite as appreciative of Roman's sarcasm as his previous co-workers. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she was? Not his problem, really. Instead, the thief drew back, as if in shock his expression a bit _too_ exaggerated as he brought a gloved hand up to his face in mock surprise.

Kind of like Neo, now that he thought about it. Then he stopped, because he did not want to think about the sort of troubles she'd be getting into without his supervision.

"You don't say! Well, in that case, I'd better take full advantage of your offer. For starters, I'd like to recommend a change in your attire. You're not exactly dressed for success, as it were. Should I recommend a tailor? Or a toy-maker, for clothing more your size?"

He could tell that Tear was not amused as the little fairy glared back at him, appreciating neither his words nor his dismissive smile. So, the only appropriate course of action for the Criminal to take it one step further.

"But on a more serious note, I did file one of those reports that your company's so insistent about. Didn't you see it in your office?... Unless I placed it somewhere out of your reach." Ah, height jokes. Far safer when the target wasn't capable of skewering you with a parasol.

Still, no crime is perfect without a hint of incredulous truth. And, true to his words, he did fill out a report for the fairy to read. His penmanship was nothing if not immaculate, and Roman had enough class to pull off that classic pen-and-ink flair that his higher-end marks enjoyed. He was refined, after all, which also meant that he wrote out the report to his standards.

There was the slight issue that it was also written completely in traditional Mistrali script, but it wasn't _his_ fault that the people of this world didn't know how to read something so simple. Even if the words themselves amounted to a few derisive insults that he had cobbled together in one of his many hours of boredom.

"You know what I mean, Roman."

Surprising no one, the little fairy wasn't too appreciative of Roman's antics. Still, the thief himself was in no mood for Thumbelina's interrogation, as he had far more important things to worry about. And important things to confirm.

"I do indeed. So, how about we make a deal? You give me my Scroll, and I'll tell you everything I did tonight, complete with collateral damage reports. I'll even write it in something you can comprehend."

"Or I could just report your insubordination, and the Terme Finance company will simply take possession of all the assets you submitted as collateral."

Roman couldn't help but give a wry chuckle at that description. That was certainly an interesting way to describe his stolen property, after all, even if the entire exchange had technically occurred under a legal pretense. Not that it mattered to Torchwick; after all, he now knew _why_ the security of Terme Finance was so powerful, which meant he also knew _how_ to get back at them.

So, he simply didn't care.

"Oh, that's fine. A few burned bridges with a business or two is something I'm familiar with. Sure, it'll be a shame to lose out on contacts, but it's no big deal." This time, the smile that the suited criminal gave was not forced. Instead of a false gesture with painted emotion, the thief went out of his way to be completely genuine. "... For me."

A completely genuine smirk, one that told the fairy that Roman knew something he shouldn't.

The fairy paused, unable to formulate her next response. Really, the sight of her fumbling was entertaining in its own right as Roman watched her, the little sprite's face shifting from suspicion to doubt, before quickly flashing to worry for one brief moment. It was subtle, but it most certainly was there, and that was all the confirmation the criminal needed.

She was hiding something. At the very least, Roman knew this this entire debt collection gimmick was a farce. How much he knew didn't matter, so long as the fairy didn't find out. All he had to do was keep up his same snarky style, bringing in just a few undertones of knowing _something_. That in itself would certainly be enough to infuriate his tiny companion, and would provide him with something to hold against the fairy, should the need arise.

"But don't worry your tiny little head about that. We're just talking about Terme's involvements with me, after all. We're not talking about anything that has to do with the brat, and we're not talking about anything that has to do with _you_."

Roman gave a knowing smile before plucking the fairy up by her wing, setting her down on the countertop in a dismissive gesture. He forced himself to remain nonchalant as he stepped into the backroom, trying to ignore the expression of doubt and confusion that slowly began forming on the fairy's face.

Well, today was certainly productive. Hopefully, tomorrow would be entertaining as well.

* * *

"G'morning Roman!"

Whatever thoughts and dreams that were going through the sleeping rogue's mind was immediately replaced by an ear-piercing voice. Though, to his credit, Roman Torchwick was experienced enough to recover form the sudden bout of noise, his brain kicking in right in time to process a single thought. Sure, that thought was a simple a question that wondered why the floor was approaching at a rapid rate, but it was still something.

 ** _Thump!_  
**  
"Aah! S-sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! I can help! J-just, here, and-"

And Recette's voice continued rambling onward, frantic and panicked as she tried to help the thief up. Unfortunately, her methods of assistance were limited to tugging at his sleeves, so Roman quickly rose to his feet, letting out a tired sigh as he brushed her off. At least she didn't damage the fabric.

"I'm fine." The thief suppressed the irritation in his voice. Instead, he waved off her worries, bringing a hand up to his forehead in an attempt to stave off his morning migraine. "Just go brush up, brat. Otherwise, Tinkerbell will yell at you, and I'll have to sit through her nagging for half an hour."

"Okaaay!" And just like that, she was off.

Honestly, this entire routine would take some getting used to.

Just yesterday, she was sleeping in until noon, completely wasting daylight as she absently chewed on her pillow. But today? No, today she was the model shopkeeper, waking up at 6 in the morning. Not that that was a bad thing, but it was one thing to wake up early, and it was another thing entirely to have some diabetic sugar-obsessed brat thundering in as a makeshift alarm clock.

Rather than complain, he decided to just go with it. He'd have to get up eventually, and perhaps today he would be able to convince the annoying fairy to let him act on his own. He had a lead now, especially after the Dungeon lecture he got from the Adventurer's guild. When he first entered this world, he obviously had no clue how it worked, but the presence of those Power Gems or whatever certainly filled in the blanks.

Torchwick's thoughts fell to the company that had put him on this silly contract. Honestly, it was worst than his arrangement with Cinder. At least he could understand half her threats.

Instead, Torchwick was left completely ignorant during the little bout he had with that company's personal army. The entire fight threw common sense out the window, and everything from their operatives and machines, to their stupid weapons themselves were an unexpected threat. His dust didn't work for obvious reasons, so he was left with his martial prowess, and while he did stall for a period of time, he was eventually overpowered.

Seriously, when a basic security mook manages to survive a slash across his throat without even a scratch, you know something's wrong. And now that Roman understood the reasons behind it, he'd just have to take advantage of the situation himself.

Once he was ready, of course.

One hour later, Roman was at the shop floor, wearing a completely new suit. Unfortunately, he still lacked Melodic Cudgel, so he had the embossed sheathe of his knife fastened to his side instead.

And to no surprise, the little fairy was in the middle of lecturing Recette once more. This time, it was some discussion about how... she could act however she wanted to? He only caught the last bit of it.

"...Simply pick something. We will deal with what comes."

Yeah, great planning there, Tooth Fairy. Why not let the little kid-in-debt decide how to best approach her new business venture? Surprising no one, it seemed that Recette was paralyzed with indecision, and it wasn't until they noticed Roman's presence that it changed. Both the fairy and the child immediately focused their attention on Roman as he entered the room, the loud creak of the door signaling his arrival proper.

Roman only needed one look at Recette's face to tell him that she wanted his opinion on whatever it was they were doing. More surprisingly, however, was the look of mild irritation that had settled on the fairy's face. Rather than any expression of worry, Tear simply glared at the man, her tiny arms crossed in some gesture of defiance as she floated beside Recette.

Huh. So his little barb wasn't as effective as he thought it was. Explains why he never got his Scroll in the end... but it wasn't that big of a deal. He'll just content himself with glaring back at the floating child's toy. Or ignoring her entirely. Yeah, that'd probably work out bet-

"Oh, Roman! There you are! With this, we can figure out where to go!" Of course, Recette remained ignorant to the little cold war between thief and fairy, choosing to completely tear down the atmosphere as she frantically waved at the criminal.

To most people, that energy might've been infectious. However, it had the opposite effect on Roman, and he found himself letting out a tired sigh as he turned to Tear, already dropping what facade he had tried to build up. It was far too early for this. "... Do I even want to know?"

"Tear was just telling me to pick a thing!" the girl's voice chimed up, answering Roman's question the worst way possible as her voice echoed throughout the entire shop.

"... I was merely explaining to Recette that, now that she has a grasp on the business practices, she can choose how to proceed." The fairy brought a hand up to her glasses, pushing them up as she tried to compose herself. "I myself recommend we procure additional items to sell in the shop."

"Well then, why don't we head to the adventurer's guild? Hire some poor schmucks to get a bunch items for us." Roman gestured to the door as he brought up this suggestion, an innocent look on his face.

"And just how do you know abo-"

"What's an adventurer's guild?" Before Tear could question Torchwick's sudden suggestion, as well as his actual knowledge of these things, a certain little girl spoke up. Recette stared up at Roman, her brunette eyes wide with fascination as she listened expectantly.

"I'm sure Tear would love to tell you on our way there."

With those words, Roman silenced any protests from their fairy friend.

"Yayifications!"

"...Merde."

Roman smiled at himself, completely content with the way things had turned out. The fairy would be stuck dealing with the brat, which meant less questions directed his way. At the same time, the adventurer's guild itself was probably the best way for Roman expand his powerbase, and to gain enough influence to get some good old-fashioned revenge on that stupid company that had stolen his stuff.

Best of all, he wouldn't have to spend the day cooped up inside this joke of a store. Sure, the kid's talent was one thing, but there was absolutely no way he'd be caught dead operating a store with a stupid name like 'Recettear (and Roman too)'.

It was with a smile that the rogue opened the door, stepping outside to greet the day.

"Wait... Torchwick? What are you doing here?!"

...God _damnit_.


	6. Week 1: A Familiar Face

**Week 1: A Familiar Face**

* * *

Goals.

They were a pretty vague thing, weren't they? I mean, sure, not _all_ of them were, but there were plenty of people who weren't quite sure what they wanted in life. Of course, there were also the opposite, and Roman knew his fair share of people had their goals ironed out to a T, always viewing and reviewing the damned thing while never letting anyone else know about what their _blasted goal_ actually was. But other people, people like Torchwick, weren't necessarily as directed with their life.

In fact, if someone were to look at the criminal and try to analyze him, all they'd see is your run-of-the-mill, everyday citizen, that was simply trying to make it out on his own. Sure, he might have a few run-ins with the law from time to time, and not every man would be willing to crush people beneath him if they stood in his way, and let's not get started on how much harder he works on his public image than the rest of those classless punks.

...Getting a bit off track.

Anyways, Roman was just like everyone else, pursuing that same nondescript goal of surviving life through whatever means necessary. Some people may disagree with his methods and tenacity, but some people were also unmotivated hacks, so that balanced itself out nicely. Either way, throughout his entire career, Roman Torchwick had made it clear that his goals were the only thing about him that was unclear, as he blindly pursued power, survival, and wealth.

But that changes _now_.

The crime boss had had enough; His new goal in life was to find out whoever put him in this situation, and to stab them until they are incapable of moving. Then, maybe lock them in a room with an angry Neo for good measure.

Why, you ask? Well, brat, why not take a look at it from his point of view? Not only was he sent into some useless world that defied everything remotely sensible, he had been forcibly mugged by some shady company that employed superhumans who gained their powers by eating magical rocks from some dungeon. Yeah, try figuring that out. Not only did they ruin his suit, but he had been forced to play babysitter while some floating kid's toy tried to play babysitter to some useless kid.

'But Roman,' you may ask, 'why are you snapping now?' Because, Billy, the forces that be decided that this disastrous life of his wasn't enough. That, even after all the damned things he had to deal with, from being dropped into this world to Cinder being goddamned Cinder, life still saw it necessary to throw him under the bus.

What other reason could there be for _Red_ of all people to be here? Because life hates him, of course. So, the only appropriate recourse was to mug life in return.

How he planned to do that would be an exercise for later; for now, he had to deal with this little brat befo-

"Oh, hello! I'm sorry, but we're heading out for today!" Recette's cheerful voice immediately broke Roman out from his thoughts. Just how long had he been standing there, stewing over his mental rant? Well, either way, he was paying attention once more, and settled his attention back on Red.

It seemed that miss goody-two-shoes was just as confused by the sudden voice, as her gaze quickly shifted from Roman towards the second voice.

"U-uh... I'm sorry, what?"

"Yes, I'd to apologize on her behalf, but we won't be manning the storefront for today."

And if red riding hood was confused before, the sudden addition of that third voice only made things worse. If he wasn't mentally exhausted, Roman might've chuckled at the kid's loss of composure, her reaction to the sudden appearance of the Tooth Fairy priceless. But he was, so rather than laugh at her expense, he took the time to actually size up his opponent.

Well, opponent might've been too generous a word. Instead, she looked more like the brat she was supposed to be, as clueless and moronic as another brat that came to mind, as both seemed to struggle in understanding basic concepts and sentences. Yes, the moment he saw Red's blank face, he knew that she was... almost exactly like...

Then it hit him.

"Oh god, there are _two_ of you now. Is nothing sacred in this world?"

"What do you mean, Roman?"

Recette's innocent voice didn't help in the slightest, as the little twelve-year-old looked up at him, ignorant curiosity plastered on her face. That little sentence seemed to snap Red out of her stupor, however, as she turned her attention back to the three.

"Wait, You know who he is? Then why are you so friendly to him?"

"Why wouldn't I be? He's helping me out, so of course I'm friendly to him!" The sudden contradictory information seemed to have an effect on the little huntress-in-training, as Roman could clearly see her shoulders slump dejectedly, no longer able to process Recette's words. That, or she may have contracted diabetes from the midget merchant's annoying smile. "That's why our store's called Recettearoman!"

What. No. What. Didn't they already overrule that? The criminal instantly turned his attention away from Red, shooting a glare at the ignorant child instead. You know, the merchant one one. But, before he could protest on the matter, the fairy chose that moment to speak up.

"Recette, I already told you that that name is... dubious at best."

"But Teeeaar... 'Recettear and Roman too' is too long."

"In case you've forgotten, we have already registered our shop's name with the merchant's guild, where we are formally known as Recettear." The blue fairy ignored the protests of her charge, brushing aside the issue as she floated beside the little merchant. There was a slight pause as she turned to Recette once more, giving the child an odd look as she pushed up the bridge of her glasses. "And Recettearoman is just as awkward a mouthful as your other suggestion."

"But it's not a bad name, right?"

The criminal noticed that the Fairy didn't disagree, which told him wonders about her professionalism. Or, maybe she just considered the name because he hated it? Whatever, he simply didn't care anymore. This was too much to deal with, and he actually had _plans_ today, so the last thing he was going to do was to get caught up in their ridiculous pace.

"Can we _please_ just get a move on?"

"Ah! Sorry Roman! And sorry miss, but we need to get going!" And with that, Recette locked the entrance to the store, before making her way up to the spot beside the rogue. It was almost comical to see the contrast between the two: Torchwick wearing an irritated expression while Recette beamed with childish abandon, striking a pose as she pointed off into the distance.

"To Adventure!"

"No, to the adventurer's guild. There's a difference, you brat."

It was about this time that Red's mind caught up with her, kicking the rest of her body into gear as she pointed towards the diminutive shopkeeper child with an accusatory finger.

"Wait! You can't just follow him along! Why are you all okay with this?"

Rather than Recette, it was Tear who answered the question, floating alongside the other two as she turned to face the redhead. "I do not know what your prior history is with Mr. Torchwick, but he is currently under contract obligations with the Terme Finance company."

Hopefully, that answer would be enough to keep Red's mouth shut. Was it too much to hope for her to not understand the statement? To just blindly stumble on the words and give them enough time to walk away? Surely, it was about time he got a break or someth-

"What's the... Terme Finance company?"

Nope.

Roman sighed, leaving them to their little conversation as he began taking the first step. If they were going to dawdle, that wouldn't be his problem.

"He's helping me with my debt!"

"... Debt?"

Torchwick paused at those words. Did that kid seriously just say that? A single glance behind him was all it took for Roman to confirm that, yes, she did. As always, the pint-sized bundle of annoyance was beaming with a brainless smile, while the other pint-sized red annoyance simply stared. This was _not_ how he wanted his criminal career to be remembered as, and no self-respecting crook would be caught dead in this situation.

Yet, his legacy crashed before it began, and Roman could only give out a tired sigh.

"Yeah! The debt that my father left me with!"

At least that little guilt trip that the brat threw out had some advantage. Roman deliberately looked away from the child, keeping his attention focused on Red. No doubt, the way that Recette smiled as she spoke out those words were enough to stifle the red reaper's enthusiasm.

And with that, he continued onward, not bothering to look back as he heard the telltale sound of twinkly fairy flight float behind him, followed by two sets of bratty footsteps. Maybe now he'd finally get some peace and quiet.

... Nah, that would be hoping for too much.

* * *

Recette skipping at the front, Tinkerbell floating alongside the brat, and Red glaring at him as she stayed near the rear of the group; Truly, this the beginning of a beautiful headache. Or just a normal migraine, really.

They had already been walking for a good half hour, and amidst the playful chatter of Recette and the silent stares of Red, Torchwick found himself surprisingly bored. His last foray into the adventurer's guild didn't take this long, did it?

"I don't trust you, Torchwick."

It certainly didn't help that his present company was loud and annoying... but it was preferable to the infinitely more obnoxious voice of the midget merchant. Not that it made it better, honestly, since he didn't think he'd have to worry about Remnant issues out here in whatever this crazy world was called. But, unfortunately for him, not even mysteriously being transported to another planet was enough to keep him away from these brats.

"I've got my eye on you!"

"Duly noted, Red. Now, would you kindly put your gardening tool away? You're scaring the locals."

Roman threw a glance at one of the townsfolk as he said that, his expression completely undeterred by the fact that the old man ignored the sight entirely. Either they were used to deranged adventurers with silly weapons, or the people of this dopey town simply didn't care about _anything_. Oh well, that didn't change the fact that he could poke fun at the annoyance at his side.

"You wouldn't want them to think you're some deranged criminal, would you?"

"What?! No, you're the criminal!"

But before their little tag-along could go into some rant about the rogue's greatest achievements, she was interrupted by Recette, as the merchant stopped in her tracks, turning around to face them.

"Uhm, excuse me... But could you please not insult Mr. Roman?" Recette's voice was firm as she spoke out, the quiet words standing with conviction as she pouted at the other girl. "He's a nice man, and you shouldn't talk bad about him."

Roman couldn't help but bite back a chuckle at this, smiling inwardly at the odd appraisal he received from the brat. Honestly, it was like watching a small animal play in traffic, completely oblivious to the world around it. Of course, Red noticed his smirk, but chose not to comment on it as she turned her gaze to the younger child.

"Is he... really helping you with your debt?"

"Mmhmm! Tear and him are here to make sure that things work out for me! I'm really grateful!"

There was no doubt the little beacon brat doubted him, which was the completely sensible thing to do. In fact, if he were in her position, he would've just assumed the worst, and paid absolutely no attention to that over-the-top smile that Recette was bearing. Instead, she was making the classic mistake of listening to a hyperactive child and her pet talking fairy thing.

So, if she was intent on making such a blatant mistake who was he to stop her?

"I'm hurt, Red. Do you honestly think that little of me?" The suited criminal wore a completely fake grin as he smiled at the girl. The effect of his sarcasm was muted by the fact that Recette matched his smile with a genuine grin, but nothing was perfect. At least the fairy stuck to her character, as Roman noticed her roll her eyes from the corner of his view. "Just ask Thumbelina over there; She'll tell you that I've been helping out with all sorts of important things, like standing around and having absolutely nothing to do."

"Last night, You left without letting anyone know where you were going. That would've been a breach of contract if you didn't tell me you were at the adventurer's guild."

That earned a look of surprise from Red, as she turned her attention from the fairy back to Torchwick. "Wait, you were where?"

"Hey Tinkerbell, I got the ticket, didn't I? That means I've reserved a spot for that Hall of Trials thing, and we can get a bit of extra money in cas-" He had more to say, of course, but the criminal found himself rudely interrupted by a certain scythe-wielding maniac.

"Wait, that was you?! No fair!" And now she was pouting. Thanks for reminding him that he's surrounded by immature children. "They only had a limited number of spaces yesterday, and said that some suited guy took the last one! They told me to wait until today to try again! I wanted to be an adventurer!"

... And, once again, he confirmed that Red is just a brat, already dropping her previous issue of his criminal background in favour of transdimensional huntsmanship. Not that he was complaining, of course; this was far more preferable than listening to her complain about his achievements. It was almost insulting how she failed to see the care and effort he had put into each of his heists.

"What's an adventurer?"

But whatever reminiscing he had planned to do was quickly dispelled by the confused voice of a certain twelve-year-old. Fortunately, they had just arrived at the Adventurer's guild, which mean that Roman could outsource the explanation to someone else entirely. So rather than answer the girl, he waved off her question as she approached the massive oak doors.

"Why not ask the fairy encyclopedia? Or the help desk, for that matter?"

"Wait, where are you going, Roman?"

"Like I said, I need to take that trial thing so I can be an adventurer." Sure, benefits of being able to carry deadly weapons without alarm was also a nice bonus, but Roman really needed to investigate this little job perspective. After all, magical dungeon rocks that granted you power sounded intriguing, and despite how absurd that notion sounded, his short time in this world told him that it was par for the course. "So yeah, I'll be over there."

"Oh, okay. Bye Roman!"

Wait, what?!

Before anyone could protest, Recette spoke out, giving the man express permission to do whatever he wanted as she waved him goodbye. Not that he needed permission, but it was nice to have the fairy off his back for this next bit.

So, just like that, Roman made his way to the receptionist's desk, wasting no time as he confirmed his guild status. After a few pointless questions about his identity, as well as a much-deserved compliment about his suit, he was directed to the west side of the room, where he saw... Huh. Was that an actual guard? That was surprising, to say the least. He hadn't seen a single official-looking individual in his entire time here; not even adventurers looked that rank-and-file.

And he was as rank-and-file as they came, complete with the stupid look on his face as he struggled to stay awake. Was work ethic a foreign concept in this world?

Still, that was all he needed to know, and the rogue quickly made his way over to his destination, casually sauntering over to the guard. Behind the armoured man, he could see a giant glowing glyph, spinning ominously with some bright light, flickering every so often as it spelt out "Hall of Trials" on the ground. They weren't exactly a subtle organization, were they?

"Oh! Uhm... Can I help you, sir?" His musings were interrupted by the guard in question, who took one glance at Roman's side, before turning to face him proper. Looks like something woke him up.

"Of course you can. The receptionist told me that you're the one who's supposed to, and I quote, 'Make sure the little punks don't die when they take their trials'."

That wasn't _quite_ a direct quote, but the guard didn't really need to know that, did he? All things considered, the criminal probably would've pretended to act a bit more professional, but if the guard before him wasn't going to make the effort, neither was he. "So why don't you do your job and send me on my way? Oh, and here's my card."

"... Everything seems to be in order. So, one adventurer and one logistics support?"

"Yeah, that-... What?"

But before he could question that second part , a painfully annoying voice shouted out beside him. That voice told him all he needed to know, and Roman turned to his right, just in time to see _Red_ sticking her tongue out at him.

"Yep! Me and him!"

Like a brat.

"Alright, in you two go, then." And before Roman could protest, the weird glyph thing flickered, flashing out a bright light that washed over him and Red.

With absolutely no regards for _his_ opinion, Roman Torchwick's trial began.


	7. Week 1: The Hall of Trials

**Week 1: The Hall of Trials**

* * *

There was no other way around it: this was Hell.

What started off as a useful method of gathering information quickly devolved into the worst headache he'd had to deal with in _months_. At its core, using the Adventurer's guild _was_ technically a good idea; they were the only major group in the city besides that Merchant's guild, and had provided him with a wealth of information. He had even learned about this world's crazy magic gems, one of the secrets behind the silly power that some adventurers seemed to have.

Oh, and on the topic of crazy magic gems, a bunch more just magically tried to suffocate him.

Okay, that might've sounded weird, but that was the best way he could've described it; the moment he destroyed one of these smiling jello things, it exploded into a bunch of those Power Crystals that he had been so curious about. It was like some sort of jewelry pinata, and the moment those gems hit the ground, they began flying at him with reckless abandon.

The first time it happened, he tried to duck out of the way, only to see the gems arc back through their air, intent on colliding with him like some sort of rich maniac's stupid diamond-shaped homing missile—Don't ask, He's been in the business for a while—only for those gems to, for lack of a better description, fuse with him.

Long story short, this trip was supposed to be something profitable, since the information he had gathered was indispensable, and Torchwick was well on his way to accruing plenty of wealth and power.

But, he had an unfortunate companion that was supposed to be his 'logistics support'. Apparently, no one had decided to tell him that a 'logistics support' was this world's term for 'annoying person inside an untouchable magical field'. Not that that would've made any sense either, but Roman would've appreciated _some_ sort of explanation before being tossed into here.

And with _Red_ of all people. Seriously, this entire journey was doomed the moment it started. It was with clenched teeth that Roman finished off his current target, driving his craftsman knife inside the little hopping slime thing. Like its friends, beady-eyed puddle exploded into a shower of power gems, each merging with Romans... Aura?, as it gave him more strength. Seriously, he had absolutely no idea how this worked.

Oh, and in addition to the magic gems, the slime also left behind a chunk of walnut bread. Clean and perfectly edible, complete with that fresh-bakery smell too, which only brought more questions to mind.

"Is it my turn yet?"

That was not one of them.

The whining voice of his latest annoying companion quickly stifled what little entertainment the well-dressed criminal had managed to gain from his little jelly-monster-murder session. Letting out a tired sigh, Roman turned his attention away from the fading mass of jello, quickly adjusting his cap before throwing an annoyed glance back to the girl.

"Seriously Red? This is the third time you've asked that. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Hey! It's not my fault this is so boring! How come I'm the one that has to be in the bubble?"

"Not my problem, Red." Another exasperated sigh left the crook's lips as he shook his head in annoyance. See, the biggest problem with this arrangement was that their interactions had somehow devolved from being arch-nemeses, to simply being people who painfully tolerated one another.

Sure, part of that came from the fact that they were lost in some insane world that made less sense than usual. Then, there was the slight issue that they couldn't actually hurt each other, since Red's position of being a logistics support meant that she was being some weird magical field that prevent her from directly interacting with the ... "dungeon". Ugh, he hated that name.

Either way, magical nonsense meant that the only thing they could do was talk at each other. And unfortunately, a little teenage brat like Red tends to get bored easily, which meant a lot of wasted air. That didn't mean he didn't try to hurt her, of course, but his plan of feeding her questionable dungeon-sourced food backfired horribly when she _thanked_ him for the food.

So now, they were locked in some horrible truce that neither of them really cared for.

"But can't we swap out or something? It's boring watching you stab things with your knife."

That managed to put Roman's actions on hold. Rather than proceed with the aforementioned to stabbing, the thief held his blade, simply picking up his targetted slime with a gloved hand, ignoring its ineffectual squirming as he turned back to the huntress-in-training. "... You know, you're pretty relaxed about the whole murder-genocide thing that I'm attempting. I figured a goody-two-shoes like you would've had more issues with this."

"That's because they're magic things that don't really exist!" The way she said it was so matter-of-factually that Roman honestly froze for a second, as if the absurdity of her words caused some sort of minor malfunction in his brain. What actually happened wasn't too far off, as he mentally began contemplating whether mental instability was a requirement for huntresses.

They do like pointlessly dying, after all. But, just as quickly as it came, that thought disappeared, replaced by equal parts dismissal and disbelief as Roman's eyes focused back on the little caped teenager.

"Okay, I'll just assume I misheard you, so... What did you just say?"

"Didn't you hear what that person said in the Dungeoneering 101 class?" Red's silver eyes peered back at the criminal, holding some sort of childish innocence that made him sick. After hearing silence from his part, the redheaded annoyance took that as an invitation to continue, only stopping to take a quick bite from her bread thing, before going off into some childish lecturer's tone. "Everything in the dungeon's formed by the dungeon, from monsters to items to money! So we're not really killing creatures, but just... fighting magic, I guess?"

Oh... Okay. So she was referring to that part.

Obviously, Roman had heard that little lecture topic yesterday, but promptly ignored it because it was _utterly insane_. He refused to believe that this world was so magically convenient that all it took to have a stable life and existence was a few hours inside some perfectly safe hole-in-the-ground. Though... if he were to seriously consider that for a few moments, that may explain why the various prices for items are so stable, since the supply would rarely change.

Or never change, if people here were all unambitious lazy hacks. After all, a twelve-year-old was well on her way to being a market behemoth, judging by the Merchant guild associates' ledgers, which spoke volumes about this world's economy. With that said, another thought crossed the thief's mind, as Roman's eyes fell to the next room, the sight of a treasure chest taking his attention. These things were still a key resource, and it was impossible to think that everyone was mindnumbingly unmotivated... So what plans would _motivated_ people have in a world like this?

His thoughts turned to that of the Terme Finance company, wondering what Tinkerbell was hiding as he-

"Dibs on the treasure!"

... Roman let out another barely-restrained growled, annoyance filling his mind once more.

* * *

 _Finally_ , they were on the last floor.

All things considered, this entire ordeal had been an exercise in patience moreso than anything else. Sure, the not-sentient blobs of living slime had been an entertaining form of stress relief, and he also encountered a few more enemies that allowed him to practice basic combat the further he delved... Even if those enemies were dog-people that threw oversized chestnuts at him.

And he wasn't being racist or anything, since he knew what dog-people were, and he didn't want to insult these things by comparing them to white fang mutts. Either way, those enemies were literally dogs that just happened to have a humanoid appearance, standing around with two arms and two legs, complete with ugly mutt face, oversized paw hands, and stupid looking cartoon tin helmets.

But anyways, the dungeon _had_ been an interesting experience for him, but it had also been a headache. Red was certainly not his choice of company, and he often ended up ignoring whatever nonsense she had decided to spout. Which was difficult, since that somehow prompted her for more conversation, as she tried to drag him into... whatever it was she was talking about. Whether it was questioning his motivations for his career choice, questioning why he had chosen to work with the white fang, or why he didn't pursue a more respectable career, his entire time spent in this little expedition had been filled with her annoying voice.

"Hey Roman...?"

Here we go again. Unfortunately, he had learned early on that she'd keep repeating herself until she got some sort of response, and that damned magic barrier that prevented her from interacting with the dungeon prevented him from attacking her, leaving him no choice but to suffer the girl's presence.

"... What is it, Red?"

"Besides me, have you ever... seen anyone else around?"

Roman resisted the urge to sarcastically snap back, mainly because he simply couldn't be bothered to. Sure, it was fun giving non-answers the first few times, but when your verbal sparring partner's got the vocabulary of someone like... well... _Red_ , it starts losing its appeal. Besides... This wasn't necessarily a bad question. If this little Beacon brat was here, then she might not be the only one.

"Ooh, _sorry_ kid, but I can't say I've seen your little gang of troublemakers lately. Why not give them a call or something?" Okay, maybe he didn't completely resist the urge, but old habits are hard to break. He sent an insincere smile to the little girl, making sure to keep the rest of his face expressionless, only his mouth moving to form a smirk. Still, he had to actually gather information, so he added on a few more words after his dismissal. "Unless you've already run into some of them?"

"... I haven't..."

Well, that was surprising. It certainly meant a lot when little miss hero ignored his jab entirely. Perhaps she really _was_ the only brat lost in this place... Which, honestly, was fine by him, as it meant less chance of someone messing up his plans.

But he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"Tch. Knowing my luck, the only reason Red hasn't found anyone yet is because they're probably running around looking for her... Last thing I need is anothe-"

"Do you really think that?"

Oh crap, did he say that out loud? Judging by her blinding expression... Yeah, yeah he did. This was _just_ great. He did _not_ need to have some hyperactive child running on nothing but concentrated hope, looking up to him for encouragement. So, the appropriate thing to do was to shoot it down, and Roman turned to face the little brat.

"No, Red, I don't. Knowing _your_ friends, they're probably-"

"-already trying to find me by searching everywhere! You're right!"

What? No! Roman's eyes widened as the little bundle of insanity began prattling off impossibly coincidental situations, which had no realistic chance of happening.

"Maybe they're already searching through some other dungeon! Or they're lost in another kingdom, slowly fighting their way to the higher levels of intelligence! Or maybe they're subverting the criminal underground!" She wasn't stopping. Why was she not stopping? "So that means I should stick to one place, rather than try to find them. But where? I can't really think of a spot where Yang, Weiss, and Blake would all visit, unless it was something important like... like..."

 _Oh no._

Roman saw the beady eyes of the little brat looking up at him, filled with enough joy and cheer to send a puppy into a diabetic coma. He could _feel_ the question before it left her mouth, and he was so focused on that little annoyance that he barely heard the sound of someone else entering the dungeon floor. Roman didn't even care who it was at this point, since he needed to shoot down this problem before it got out of hand.

"Can I work at the item shop with you all?"

"Of course you can't work a-... Wait... 'You all'?" Obviously Roman was about to shoot down that stupid suggestion. He had no idea how it even arrived at this point, but the last thing he needed was to be in close proximity with _Red_. Yet, he didn't miss that little slip of the tongue... Unless she was exceedingly terrible with words, that implied that...

Roman turned around, immediately catching the sight of the seedy looking adventurer who had entered the dungeon floor.

As well as _his_ logistics support, a certain twelve-year-old merchant and a hateful fairy wearing a condescending grin.

Roman was certain that the tooth fairy saw his expression. Why else would she be smirking at him, eyes glinting dangerously behind her glasses as she adopted her professional tone. He already knew what was going to happen before the little fairy's voice rang out. "Of course, ma'am. As an associate of Mr. Torchwick, we would be pleased to accept your temporary employment at the store. Please consider yourself an honourary member of Recettear."

"(And Roman too)! You can't forget the last part, Tear!" The annoying chirp of the second brat sealed the deal.

Roman had no doubts anymore. He was in Hell.


	8. Week 1: More Halls, More Trials

**Week 1: More Halls, More Trials**

* * *

As an experienced professional, Roman Torchwick was no stranger to changing circumstances.

In fact, his entire career hinged on being adaptable, always able to react to any sort of problem that might arise. Whether it was an incompetent element on a heist gone wrong, a screw-up made by some mindless animal from White Fang, or even a bunch of kids ruining his plans _yet again_ , the classy criminal would always be ready to land on his feet. But, in spite of how often he came on top in these unexpected complications, it didn't mean he enjoyed them.

And this current 'complication' that was plaguing him was no different, except in how much he disliked it. Really, half of him didn't even consider it 'unexpected', considering how much of his life's already been thrown to the wayside. He was supposed to be a simple motivated entrepreneur, with a slight perchance for independence. Instead, he had been dragged into more conspiracies that he could count, and his latest predicament was certainly the least of his troubles.

Not that he had to enjoy it, of course.

No longer content with his musings, the rogue turned his attention away from his thoughts, his gaze shifting back to the only other person in the room. He ignored the way she seemed to dance around, losing herself in her childish antics as the girl in the little red hood charged at one of those sentient jello things, her massive scythe murdering the poor blob in one fell swoop.

Before she could get too enamoured in her victory over living pudding, however, Roman decided to speak up.

"Hey Red, you mind clearing something up for me?"

The rogue's tone was almost civil, bordering on amicable as he settled his sights on the teenager. That in itself seemed to surprise the little brat, as she raised a wary eyebrow at him, her gaze shifting away from her spoils as she turned to the criminal.

"... What is it, Torchwick?"

"Well, forgive me if I'm a bit blunt, but could you please explain to me..." His voice was quiet for just a moment longer, before breaking off into a full blown yell, his hand gesturing to the Dungeon corridors around him. " _Why the hell I'm stuck down here babysitting you?!_ "

Almost civil. His tone was almost civil.

Either way, the glare he leveled at the girl did nothing to ease his annoyance, especially since he was not ignorant of the reason behind the current arrangements. If he were being completely honest with himself, that little outburst was more to ease his growing migraine rather than ask for information, as the criminal knew full well why he was stuck in some stupid tunnel watching over some wanna-be hero murder jello.

"Well, I helped you out with your adventurer trial, right? So it's only fair that you help me out with mine!"

Did... Did she honestly forget their circumstances? He was a criminal mastermind, and she was the annoying thorn at his side that always ruined his plans. Why would she even think that that was the reason? Red was either insane, or more affected by being dropped into a completely different world than he was. Either way, he didn't care, and simply settled for leveling a glare at the hyperactive brat.

"I mean... Because Tear said so? She said that, since we're acquaintances, you should help me out with my adventurer trial. And... I don't think she likes you."

That reason was more along the lines of what he had been expecting to hear. While the fact that she was already on a first name basis with the floating nightlight did not bode well for the security of the criminal's sanity, it was reassuring to know that Red was still in the dark about his true reasons for remaining compliant.

"You don't say. You're a sharp one, aren't you? I can see why you were accepted into Beacon."

So long as Red continued to think that his job was the reason behind his obedience, there wouldn't be any problems. On the other hand, if she found out the real reason, that he had no feasible way of escaping that little brat on foot because of her stupid flower petal thing, then he was fairly certain that little bit of information would make its way back to the fairy.

Why is that a problem, you might ask?

Well, Perry, I'm glad you've got your thinking cap on, unlike the rest of your barnyard friends. You see, if that little blue dust lamp figures out that Roman wasn't able to escape from Red, then she'd likely assign her to watch over him whenever he's out and about town. Then he wouldn't be able to get anything important done, and he'd end up being as effective as a neutered White Fang mongrel.

Roman sighed. Sarcastically insulting the White Fang was one of his favourite pastimes back on Remnant, and it simply wasn't the same if he didn't have any of the petting zoo around for an audience.

"...You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

Oh, right, Red was still here. No doubt, she had heard his sigh, and as much as he'd like her to think he was insulting her... Actually he kind of was, wasn't he? Well, might as well continue, then. At the very least, it'd provide him with some form of entertainment while he remained stuck inside this silly magic bubble that prevented him from interacting with the dungeon.

"Who knows, Red? Let's say I am and leave it at that. Now, don't you have some jelly to be murdering with your oversized gardening tool?"

It was an offhanded remark, so Roman was surprised to see the expression that the girl wore when his gaze returned to Red. Honestly, he didn't expect her to look _that_ offended by his words. Honestly, the look on her face had Roman torn between simply giving off one of his signature smirks, and letting her knew that she looked exactly like one of Cinder's prideful little snots. Well, assuming she's realized who Cinder even _was_ in the first place.

Eh. Looks like he'll just have to settle for a condescending sneer for now.

"Don't speak about Crescent Rose like that! Apologize this instant!"

And that sneer promptly turned into confusion, as the Red-hooded girl drew her scythe once more. Well, it didn't quite count as drawing, since she left it in its inert easy-to-carry form, but confusion was plastered on his face all the same.

There was a slight pause for a moment, as Torchwick's green eyes settled on Red's silver eyes. A part of him questioned why she had silver eyes, but the majority of his thoughts were still focused on... why she was expecting an apology? Or who Crescent Rose was, when he had simply mentioned her... Oh.

"... What."

"You heard me!"

This was stupid, and Torchwick stopped caring.

Instead, he turned his gaze settled on something behind the brat, watching as one of the dungeon monsters slowly wandered into the room. He wasn't too sure if he should hold his tongue, as it would've been interesting to see one of those dog monsters beat the crap out of the kid... Then again, if it was that easy, he wouldn't have so many damned problems with her.

"Rather than asking me to apologize for your stupid toy, shouldn't you deal with that thing?" Roman gestured to the approaching monster, giving little Red the opportunity to distract herself with something, so she'd stop bothering him. Predictably, the kid turned around, trusting him completely for some stupid reason, as she settled her sights on the monster. It only took her a few moments to unfurl her weapon, and just like that, Red was no longer his problem.

No... He had far more important problems to deal with than her. Leaning back against the dungeon walls, Roman Torchwick allowed himself a few moments of rest, clearing his mind as he settled his thoughts on his predicament.

Now that Red was traipsing around, he couldn't really gather power and influence as smoothly as he had originally intended. Sure, he had only been planning to make use of these dungeons, so it wasn't like he had wasted an unreasonable amount of effort in his plans, but he was less worried about what he stood to lose, and more of what the girl's presence represented.

As much as he'd like to think otherwise, if Red was here, then there was the very real chance that the rest of her motley little band was lost here too. Part of him wondered if Neo was stuck here as well, and if that was the case... What about Cinder?

Well, it's decided.

Even with the risks, he'd have to continue playing transdimensional huntsman, pillaging these dungeons for their mysterious power and resources, just so he had some form of safety net to fall back to. And as soon as he finished that thought, an explosion rang out, snapping the rogue from his plots as he heard the telltale ringing of Power Crystals hitting the dungeon floor.

Roman shifted his gaze back to the teenage annoyance, watching as she sheathed her weapon once again, those Power Crystals being absorbed into her aura as she knelt down to pick up whatever it was that the monster had dropped. "Finally done? Figured you would've taken a bit longer, since that mutt kinda looked like your mutt."

Was that poor form? ... Actually, it probably was. A criminal of his caliber was capable of far more than simple insults, and he must be losing his touch if that was the first thing that came to mind. Rather than continue with his prodding, he decided to drop the tone for now, if only to figure out a better way of-

"He did, didn't he?"

Red's voice was quiet, but it was still enough to interrupt the thief's thoughts as she turned to face him. Once again, her eyes bore into him, holding none of the malice or indignation he had expected, considering he had just tossed her a half-hearted insult. Instead, she seemed to be conflicted with something, her gaze shifting from the dungeon walls back to the suited criminal as she weighed her thoughts. After a few more moments, however, Red finally spoke.

"... Hey Roman? How did you end up here? And do you think we can get back?"

That was... unexpected. Not that he had any plans about telling the kid of how he wound up in this mess in the first place, but at least she was asking sensible questions for once. In fact, this provided him with the opportunity to ask about her situation. "How about this? You tell me how you ended up here, and I'll give you my side of the story. Then, we can figure out how to get back to Remnant."

"Really?"

"Of course, Red." After all, the information she'd provide him with would help the thief determine whether the rest of her group was in this stupid world.

* * *

As with all of his great ideas, Roman had found that fate had a way of crushing them before they gained any traction.

Honestly, he wasn't too sure why he had expected this time to work any differently, especially since the few interactions he had had with the hooded teenager only confirmed how unreliable she was. That is, unless the problem in question was to be a problem to his plans, in which case she'd reliably screw everything up.

So yeah, why did he expect any different this time? Rather than provide him with anything useful, all the brat had said was that her last memories were of Beacon. Not anything specific, mind you, just that the last thing she had remembered was Beacon. No, really? Of course that'd be the last thing, she attends that stupid school. Sufficed to say, Roman was not pleased with this lack of information.

"Red... Are you absolutely sure that's all you remember?"

Torchwick threw a glance at the girl, his voice slow and deliberate as they made their way through the dungeon. He resisted the urge to stab a nearby slime monster, if only because the first time he tried was completely fruitless, and settled on glaring at the kid.  
"I'm telling you, I don't remember anything else!" What was worse was that she was wearing an indignant half-pout, as though she couldn't understand why her words were useless to him. "All know was that I woke up in the middle of the town square, and that people thought I was an adventurer who had fallen asleep there."

Roman was about to comment on the sheer absurdity of that, before he remembered how utterly senseless the people of this world was. Sure, it didn't actually tell him anything about whether her words were true or not, but he honestly doubted that Red was capable of subterfuge. A dangerous assumption to make, especially in his line of work, but based on what he knew about the girl, coupled with the fact that she looked less like a huntress-in-training and more like a scared little brat... Well, Roman saw little reason to continue prodding.

Just as he was about to change the topic, he heard the quiet voice of the kid once more, barely audible above the dull ambiance of the dungeon corridors.

"People thought I was crazy when I started mentioning Vale and Beacon and the grimm." The girl's face was focused on the floor this time around, not bothering to look up at the thief as she muttered to the air. "I didn't know what to do. My team was missing, the Scroll didn't work, and I was completely lost. Then, someone pointed me to the adventurer guild, and the way they explained things there... I guess I tried to not think about it."

It seemed like the situation had finally caught up with the brat. Honestly, he was not paid enough for this, as the last thing he was qualified to be was a babysitter. Still, they'd be stuck here for the rest of the day if the girl suddenly had a mental breakdown, so he decided to hold off on the snark for now. Instead, the man continued walking, one hand slipping into his coat as he reached for a cigar.

Right, he didn't have any of those anymore. Looks like he'll just have to settle for a mouthful of dusty dungeon air instead.

The lack of cigar certainly wasn't improving Roman's mood, and the silence was only drawing his attention to the sluggish sound of the kid dragging her feet along the stone ground. This was getting tiring, and considering how long they had been in the damned dungeon, Roman should've been considered a saint for how long his patience had held up. So, really, he felt completely justified when he suddenly came to a stop, before turning around to face the little hooded brat.

"Listen Red..."

He could tell his voice was the last thing the girl had expected, especially since it carried none of his usual glib. If he were in her position, even he'd wonder why his tone suddenly shifted. Then again, if he were in her position, he'd also know that it was for dramatic effect, as his scowl immediately returned. "Would it kill you to just lighten up for a minute? I mean, compared to me, you freaking lucked out by being dropped off in town. I get saddled with Tinkerbell, and I know about as much of our situation as you do, but you don't see me complaining, do you? So _suck it up_ already. Listening to you complain's just giving me more of a headache."

Seriously, kids these days. He could've gone into an actual rant, but his patience hadn't strained itself that far yet. For now, that light vent was enough to keep the criminal sane.

The child seemed to weigh his words for a bit, her silver eyes staring up at him as she tried to appraise him for whatever reason. After a short pause, she finally spoke out, her voice filled with a bit more strength then before.

"Are you... encouraging me?"

What? No! That was the last thing he was going for. How the hell did she go from being yelled at, to giving encouragement? Hell, he could hear the hope dripping in her voice as she said those words. Roman was about to tell her how wrong she was when the kid's eyes lit up even more, spotting something behind him. Part of him was curious as to what she saw, since it apparently sent her optimism into overdrive, but the rest of him was resolute in clearing up this silly misunderstanding.

"No, I'm not! And I don't know what possessed you to think otherwise, but-..."

Poof.

Yes, poof. He wasn't quite sure when the poof had actually occurred, but halfway through his sentence, Roman finally noticed he was speaking to a brat-shaped cloud of petals, rather than Red herself. He wasn't even sure _how_ he missed it, but he had, and that in itself quelled his desire to protest. Instead, he turned his attention to where the kid had ran off to, only to see the girl hopping happily beside a large treasure chest.

"We made it!"

Her voice was a far cry from the subdued tone from earlier, having absolutely none of the previous doubt as Red was cheerfully fawned over the dungeon chest. She seemed to struggle with the locking mechanism for a bit, ultimately deciding to kick it in a fit of frustration. A loud click sounded out in the air, signifying the last resistance of the little box fading away, the absurdity of the opening method not lost on Roman as the hooded teenager looted the chest in its entirety.

And just as suddenly as she disappeared, the Beacon brat reappeared before the thief, positively beaming as she smiled back at him.

"Thanks Roman! Now I'm an adventurer too!" Ruby looked over her guild card once more, proudly showing it to the suited criminal, completely ignoring his deadpan look as Roman struggled to... pretend to care? Nope, can't even do that. Besides, he still had to sort out that whole misunderstanding before the dimensional door magically appears.

Not that he understood the mechanics of how _that_ worked either. These dungeon things just didn't make any sense, and no amount of _damnit_ where'd Red go? Roman cursed himself for losing his thoughts, trying to spot the kid and her signature cloak, only to see her standing right at the dimensional door.

Of course.

Well, at least she didn't run through it right away, so Roman could still clear up the little-

"And Roman... Thanks for cheering me up. I guess you're not as bad as they say. Now c'mon, let's go!" With those final words, Red disappeared through the door, teleporting back towards the Adventurer's Guild.

...Honestly, why does he even try anymore?


	9. Week 1: Friendly Enemies

**Week 1: Friendly Enemies**

* * *

Freedom. So close, yet so far.

Was it honestly something beyond his reach? Was the concept of freedom too much for Roman Torchwick to even hope for?

Okay, that might've been a bit too melodramatic, but someone's gotta do it, right? After all, there weren't any of those White Fang mutts around to wax poetic about their social status or whatever it was they rambled on about, and Roman needed _something_ to take his mind off of the stupid mess that had been the past few... hours? A quick check at a nearby window told the criminal that it was already late afternoon, bordering on the evening.

Just great. He had wasted most of the day dealing with that dungeon business.

Well, it technically wasn't a waste, since he had still managed to glean some information about how this world worked, not to mention the sudden influx of resources. Roman's little expedition had proven that Dungeons were an intrinsic part of the world's economy, as the thief's efforts in the Hall of Trials had rewarded him with a pile of random equipment, not unlike the bargain bin stock that was on display in the Merchant's Guild. From longswords and leather armour to unreasonable amounts of walnut bread, the dungeon had been a surprising source of finished goods.

However, those trinkets paled in comparison to the other defining feature of the dungeon: Power Crystals. Even now, the thief was no closer to understanding how they worked... but Roman was, at the very least, certain that they _did_ work. He felt the subtle shift in the dungeon when he slogged through it the first time, and the second excursion with Red gave the thief plenty of time to examine the phenomenon second hand. Not that he could figure it out, beyond 'magical strengthening crystal things', but what do you expect from him? He's a crime lord, not a scientist.

Free items and magic gems aside, the weirdest part of his excursion was how... accessible everything was. You'd think he'd have gotten used to the lack of common sense in this silly world, given its almost-nonexistent crime rate and constantly-chipper locals. Yet, the thief was still surprised that something as extensive as these dungeons were readily available to whoever wanted to waltz right in.

From what he could tell, the Hall of Trials was apparently the only one that had direct oversight, as the rest of the world's dungeons were open to any adventurer who wanted to kill themselves in them. All you needed was some token affiliation with the Adventurer's Guild, and you were free to plunder those monster-filled holes in the ground. And when he said 'token', he meant 'token', since someone like _him_ was capable of joining in with only a nominal fee.

Overall, it was a very generous system, and one that instantly brought suspicion to the thief; Life was neither noble nor fair, so there had to be something else to all this. Perhaps there was something else in place, and the Adventurer's Guild was only being used as a front of some kind? Thought really, something as simply as that seemed far too complex for this world.

Roman turned away from his thoughts, his eyes shifting back to the room, half-expecting to see someone confront him for his usage of the dungeon to levy some sort of fee or something. But, instead of some representative from the hypothetical shadow group, all the suited criminal saw in the room was the lazy guard from earlier... In fact, the only notable thing Roman could see was that guard, seated on a chair and reading away some book, with the rest of the room completely devoid of activity.

No sign of Tinkerbell anywhere, and neither of the two brats seemed to be around either, given the lack of ear-grating voices. _Interesting_. Perhaps this was an opportunity for the criminal to-

"Finally finished?"

An interruption. Of course.

Roman threw a glance towards the voice's source, only to find that the aforementioned guard had finally taken notice of him... Well, as much notice as you'd expect from someone slouched over some sort of book. Still, to the man's credit, the guard _did_ look up from his reading material when he had addressed the thief, which was far more professionalism than Torchwick had really expected from him.

"Now that you mention it, the idea of running through that waste of time again is appealing, but I think I've had my fair share of headaches for today. I'll just let some other snot-nosed brat get themselves murdered by killer jam and ugly faunus instead." The thief's tone never once wavered from his signature sarcastic enthusiasm, a tone that earned Roman a noncommittal from the lazy guard. "Thanks, though."

"Sure, whatever." And just like that, the guard returned to his illustrious task of wasting time or something. At least, that's what Roman assumed, since that's what his first thoughts would've been had he stumbled on one of his mooks doing that on duty. Really, this entire world seemed to have a severe lack of work ethic. Roman probably would've been appalled by it, if it weren't for fact that it worked in his favour, and that it wasn't his problem.

Speaking of things that weren't his problem, it seemed like the annoying fairy and the two brats were out of his hair for now. Of course, he was certain that that would change the moment he returned to the shop, especially since the fairy seemed to go out of her way to annoy the thief. Heck, she probably hired Red just because of Roman's reaction to the girl, and Roman was all but certain that the little floating nightlight had planned to dump that little headache on him the moment he returned.

Which was why he didn't plan on heading back yet.

Torchwick still had his plans to push forward, and despite his extended dungeon session, there was enough time for him to visit the Merchant's Guild before he had to return to the shop. Not that he had a specific time to return or anything, but he didn't feel like giving the fairy some undue stress by staying out unannounced for an indeterminate amount of time.

Oh, who was he kidding?

With that out of the way, Roman stepped out of the room, returning to the main reception area to find it similarly devoid of activity. There were barely any people here, let alone adventurers, and the only people of note that Roman could see was the receptionist and that one seedy kid with the sword and shield. You know, the one that the midget merchant had befriended for whatever reason, though looking at him again, Roman couldn't help but think of the kid as more of a vagabond than a poster child for adventure.

Oh well. Either way, it wasn't the thief's problem, and without giving it another thought, Roman stepped out of the Adventurer's guild.

"Oh, you're done! So where are we going now?"

Only to be greeted by Red. Again.

Goddamnit.

* * *

"But Tear said we're supposed to head back to the shop once we finished my adventurer trial, remember?"

Of course Roman remembered. Whether he cared or not was a different issue entirely, though the thief was quite certain that he was being pretty clear on the matter. Yet, for whatever reason, Red decided to stick along and follow anyways, even thought this was none of her business. Heck, he wasn't sure why the beacon brat was walking alongside him in the first place, since she had made it clear she wanted to return to the shop.

Well, people like her were easy to deal with. Rather than try to guess at her motives, Roman chose to some something much simpler, and much more likely to produce some form of an answer: asking the stupid kid directly.

"So why are following me again?"

Roman raised an eyebrow to accentuate his question, almost making a show of his exaggerated motions. If Red noticed it, however, she didn't show it, as the girl seemed to pay him no mind, choosing to settle her gaze to the cobblestone road instead. She was lost in thought—that much, Roman could tell—which only served to heighten his curiosity on the matter. After all, from what he knew, Red was hardly the thinker of her little group.

Then again, her little group consisted of that White Fang maniac, the maniac who blew up Junior's bar, the Schnee ice queen maniac, and the scythe-wielding maniac herself... Huh. Was being unhinged a requirement for being a huntsman these days?

"I guess..." After the brief bout of silence, Red's voice chimed up once more, hesitant and unsteady as she tried to pick her words. "I guess it's because you're the only thing... familiar?"

That was surprising. Roman blinked at that statement, at a genuine loss for words as he tried to process that inane reason. Yet, no amount of mental gymnastics could help him see the girl's position, and the thief could only stare back at the little teenager in confusion.  
"Really? That's your big reason?" Well, stare back and actively question her, of course. "You're following me to who-knows-where because I'm _familiar_ to you? Remnant to Red, I'm Roman Torchwick, remember? Master criminal extraordinaire? Is that ringing any bells?"

He wasn't sure if he was offended or not. Surely, this was a new low in his career, right? He went from being a master of his trade, to being some stupid underling of Cinder, to the a glorified rancher that had to babysit the White Fang. And now, he was so unimposing that a suicidal wannabe-hero-in-training considered him trustworthy?

No. This was ridiculous. He wouldn't accept this.

"In case you forgot, I orchestrated the whole Breach thing. Stole enough dust to fund the White Fang? Robbed some old guy for his store, and nearly killed your kitty cat friend? Heck, I nearly killed all of you with a giant robot, which I also stole. Does any of this sound familiar?" Roman's voice was steady as he articulated each point, his gaze not shifting away from the kid as he began listing all the reasons why she was utterly insane for following him. "Why would you even entertain the idea of following along with whatever I'm doing?"

And yet, rather than doubt, Roman could see a sort of conviction form on Red's face, her gaze shifting up to meet his own, her silver eyes staring straight into him. There was a hint of defiance in her expression, a familiar sight to Torchwick, though it was accompanied far less hostility than what he was used to. In its place was probably some misguided misunderstanding, and as the girl began to speak out, Roman regretted asking his question.

"... Because that's not all you've done."

The statement was quiet at first, but Roman didn't miss the sickening tone that the brat carried in her voice. However, as far deluded as her first words were, it was her next declaration that really annoyed the thief.

"Because you've also tried to do so much more here, when you could've done worse. Instead of being a thief and hurting people, you're helping out at a shop..." Roman mentally sighed as Red began rehashing all the misunderstandings she had learned of the thief. Just how could she be so wrong about things? And yet, she prattled on. "You're helping out someone who was... abandoned. A stranger you didn't really know, who had nothing left."

Roman's eye twitched.

Okay, exactly how long did the two brats talk? Because this was steadily going from misunderstanding to outright _slander_. He wasn't helping out the kid from the goodness of his heaer, he was _forced_ to help, and that was just because he had no damned idea how some people in this world could be so freakishly strong at the time. Things were different now that he actually had some idea of how this place worked. Sure, he'd still have to maintain his cover and probably play babysitter for the merchant kid, but that didn't mean he was helping.

Yet, Red was dragging his criminal name through the mud at this point. If anyone heard her drivel, he'd lose all chance of establishing himself in this city's criminal underground... assuming it existed in the first place. Either way, he'd have to clear this up, so rather than let her continue spouting out her delusions, the thief spoke up.

"Now wait just a minu-"

"Upupup! I'm not done yet!"

Red brought up her hand, a single finger held up as she tried to quiet Roman. The thief reacted as expected, his eye twitching more intensely as he stood at stunned silence for a split second. Did she really just do that? To _him_? This was getting ridiculous at this point; who in their right mind would do that, especially to a criminal of his calib-

"You also helped me come up with a plan to find my team."

And of course she interrupted him again, throwing up another painful misunderstanding. Was she really this dense? He did nothing of the sort, since the beacon brat had jumped to that conclusion all by herself. Just like this train of thought, really. Was there even a point in trying to protest? Heck, it was worth trying, right? Torchwick spoke out once more, his voice firm as he tried to clear up her delusions. "No, Red, I didn't. That was just you misunderstan-"

"And you try not to draw attention to it either. You try to hide all the good things you do, but you still do them anyways."

Okay, this was a lost cause. The child in the red hood was officially incapable of seeing simple logic. There was no changing her mind, so Roman stopped trying. Instead, there were more important things for him to deal with: actual criminal-worthy things. He still had a legitimate business to topple, after all.

Now where the hell was the Merchant's guild again? Ah, that way.

"That's why I think you're a good pers-Hey! Where are you going?"

* * *

Unfortunately, ridding himself of the Red headache was easier said than done, especially when she does that stupid flower-petal thing with her cape. Sure, it was unwieldy in combat, and he could see it telegraphed a mile away, but her weird technique was still adequate when it came to closing the distance.

Which meant that, try as he might, he couldn't feasibly ditch the teenage without being overt about his attempts. And if he was overt, there was a chance that the stupid fairy would catch wind of his plans. Well, catch more wind of his plans? Is that how the saying goes? Regardless, that meant he had to babysit little red riding hood, which was certainly not a task he was wanted to waste any effort on.

So.. What was the best way to keep a hyperactive immature kid entertained?

"Hey Roman?"

Ah, yes. Facepalms. The perfect answer.

Roman pulled his hand away from his face, letting out a sigh before turning back to the kid. As always, she had this sickeningly innocent look on her face, staring back up at him, as though she didn't understand why he had just applied his hand to his face.

"Hey Red? This familiarity thing of yours has got to stop." He didn't even feel like taunting her at this point. Why would he? He's still stupefied that she's transitioned to referring to him by name on a casual level. Hell, weren't they mortal enemies or something? Why the hell is she acting so buddy-buddy now? "In case you forgot, we're supposed to be enemies, remember? So stop it already."

"Nope." And of course, she plays the spoiled brat card.

Kind of like Neo, really... Well, okay, not at all, since Neo was far more annoying to deal with. Still, Red could give Torchwick's miniature partner-in-crime a run for her money in the headache department. Both of them seemed to completely disregard convention, and both of them seems to go out of their way to be contrary; it was only the fact that Red was doing it unconsciously that made it worse. Still, Roman ignored that little thought as he turned back to the girl, intent on addressing her little outburst.

"Yeah, no. I'm gonna have to veto your nope."

"Oh yeah?" And without missing a beat, the girl spoke up once more, her voice playfully defiant, grating on Torchwick's waning patience. "Well, I veto your veto! So there!"

This was stupid. A thought that seemed to be popping up in his mind far more often lately... And unfortunately for the suited criminal, he couldn't afford those thoughts. After all, he had something important that he actually had to do. Something more important than entertaining this annoyance at least, since he was _supposed_ to go to the Merchant's Guild to negotiate stuff.

But how exactly was he supposed to do that under these circumstances? Really, his only choice was to stop caring at this point. So he did.

"Just... What the hell do you want, Red?"

"I just wanted to ask, since you skipped over this the last time I brought it up, but..." Once again, Red looked up at the thief, staring at the Rogue with equal parts hesitation and expectation in her eyes. "How exactly did you end up here?"

... You know what? Sure, he'll tell the damn story. Maybe it'll keep her quiet for the rest of their little walk to the guild hall.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Apologies for the lack of updates during the past week. Academia occurred. However, my schedule should be back to manageable levels from now on. **  
**_


	10. Week 1: A Point of Reference

**Week 1: A Point of Reference**

* * *

"... And that's when I realized, with absolutely no uncertainty, that Perry was the son of the White Fang's last great leader."

Roman nodded to himself as he finished off the story, looking completely serious as he closed his eyes in contemplation. There was a moment of silence, neither person making a sound as Red and Torchwick continued their trek through the quiet town of Pensee.

And, being a master of communication via silence, Roman knew full well what to expect.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the rogue found himself face to face with a pouting child, her cheeks puffed in annoyance. Honestly, the suited criminal wasn't entirely convinced that it was genuine annoyance either, since the whole effort of puffing out your cheek was something you'd probably skip if you were actually irritated by something. Yet, Red stood there with her arms crossed, glaring up at him as she lived up to her role of short-sighted brat.

"Alright, alright." The thief waved his hand dismissively, his voice tinged with a familiar sense of condescension and nonchalance as he turned his glance away from the hooded girl. "Since you've been so _well_ behaved throughout this entire story, you get the privilege of asking one question."

The air twitched.

Okay, that might've been an odd description if you were anyone else besides Roman Torchwick. However, it spoke volumes for the classy criminal in question, as he was quite capable of picking up such obscure nuances. His business dealings with Cinder's underlings, as well as his bored interactions with Neo, both provided him ample opportunity to experience subtle changes in atmosphere, and noticing these oddities were second nature to him.

Granted, Red wasn't trying to kill him or anything, so it wasn't quite the same experience as an annoyed Neo. With that said, Roman wasn't complaining; senseless violence on his person was the last thing the criminal missed about Remnant. Well, second last, since Cinder was still probably in Remnant. And if it wasn't for the fact that he had unfinished business back in Vale, Roman would've been content to stick around here.

...Okay, maybe not. Even the criminal would admit that Remnant had things that he missed, which he would likely never find in this messed up world. You know, things like competent minions and job satisfaction? Both of those things were really hard to come by in a world like this, since it _lacked sensible people_. Seriously.

"Is... Is anything you said actually true?"

It was a cold day in Vacuo if _Red_ of all people was the most sensible thing that Roman could find. Part of him was still surprised by the fact that the Beacon brat was able to pick up on his sarcasm in the first place, since she seemed to be pretty naive as far as huntresses-in-training went. Yet, here she was, questioning the tale he had fabricated out of thin air.

"What, don't you believe me?"

With that said, making up things was _far_ more entertaining than retelling the actual story of how he arrived in the first place. Heck, that was a can of worms in and of itself, since Roman _still_ wasn't quite sure of how he slipped out of General Ironwood's airborne holding cell. Not that he would admit it or anything. "I'll have you know that everything I said was true."

The kid almost scoffed at his statement, rolling her eyes before staring back at the criminal. "Really? So you really led White Fang on a military campaign against Atlas, after they blew up a train and led countless grimm into the city of Vale?"

"Of course. From the very depths of Mountain Glenn itself, after we cleared out the resident Grimm." To say that improvisation was one of Roman's strong points would be an understatement, and the criminal carried his words with practiced ease. "Like I said, that's when Perry—c'mon, you know Perry. Mask and glasses?—took off his glasses and used his semblance. Real piece of work, that was. Fire and lasers _everywhere_."

Red was not amused. That much was obvious, judging by the stare that she threw his way. Still, she was less annoyed and more... surprised? Incredulous? Something that wasn't actual annoyance, at any rate. The reaction he was getting was a far different than what Roman was normally used to, as the people usually focused less on the content of his words, and more on some sort of malicious action.

The beacon brat? She just seemed to take his words into stride. "And how did that cause you to end up here?"

"You tell me, kid." The shrug Roman gave did nothing to alleviate Red's mood, much to her chagrin. "One minute, I'm directing a group of animals to crush some of Atlas's tin cans with the bigger tins that we stole from them. And the next thing I know, I'm here."

"Don't call them that!"

Of course, _that's_ what she called him out on. Sure, she was a goody-two-shoes, but Roman still expected some sort of response beyond mock-racist statements. Really, shouldn't she be questioning everything he said after the breach? Or was she actually smarter than she looked, and was just trying to gauge the subconscious nuances that his body gave off whenever he was fabricating a stor-

"And they'd never do anything like that!"

... Okay what?

Red's voice quickly stopped whatever thought process was going through Roman's mind, as the Criminal sent his own expression of disbelief to the little kid. He was met with a wide-eyed child, staring back at him with silver eyes, her gaze determined as she stood by her statement.

He had to ask. There was something about the way she said that spoke that bothered him, and Roman had to clarify something. After all, she wasn't saying what he thought she was saying, right? "What just what is it that they'd never do, exactly?"

"They'd never blow up a train, just to lead grimm into the city!" Just as she spoke those words, the beacon brat puffed out her chest, so damned sure of herself as she pointed a finger straight at the criminal. "Sure, they do some bad things, but they'd never go so far as to hurt everyone!"

There was a slight pause, silence filling the air as the rogue narrowed his eyes, his tone shifting completely as his attention fell squarely on the kid. Yet, Red's eyes stared back at him, not a trace of deceit or doubt in her silver gaze. She honestly believed her statement.

Roman picked his next words carefully, forcing himself to maintain the same mood he had showed throughout the entire conversation. Thankfully, his relaxed tone was almost reflexive at this point, his voice barely wavering as the man shunted his doubts back into the depths of his mind.

"And why do you say that, Red? Don't tell me you've forgotten about the Docks thing already. Or the highway incident?" The orange-haired criminal was being deliberately vague as he rattled off events that Red _should've_ recalled, watching her expression with a professional gaze. Her reaction told him everything, as did the flash of doubt in her expression; she obviously knew what he was talking about.

Good.

The big question, however, was the next item on the agenda. Roman mentally twitched as he recalled the events that led up to his incarceration, partially because of the fact that Red's merry band of wanna-be heroes interfered, and partially because of the look that Cinder's brats had when it all collapsed. "... Or Mountain Glenn and the Breach?"

The cold pall of Dread filled the Criminal's chest when he spoke those last words, as Red's doubtful expression was quickly replaced by genuine confusion.

"... What Breach?"

* * *

Sufficed to say, Roman ignored the rest of his annoying companion's questions. Sure, that in itself probably threw a bunch of suspicion back onto the criminal, but the vigilante worries of a single student was the _last_ of Roman's concerns.

Did he really need to say what his first concern was?

Roman brought a hand up to his forehead once more, no doubt the fourth or so time since they had left the adventurer's guild. However, he was nursing a genuine headache this time, as the criminal tried to recount his steps. Yet, no amount of recollection could provide any answers, as the majority of his memories involved interrogations made by Atlas's finest. Unfortunately, neither the frustrated glares of the esteemed General nor the irritated expression of Atlas's very own Ice Queen could provide Roman with any answers.

Well, no answers beyond a single immutable fact: The breach happened, and he was locked up for it.

So why was it that Red couldn't remember it at all? The event was still fresh in the public eye, especially since it occurred so close to the Vytal Festival, and despite the kid's failings, Roman doubted that the huntress-in-training was so mentally incapable that she'd forget something _that_ big. Torchwick's gaze turned from cobblestone pathway back to the child in question.

"Finally! Are you done ignoring me?"

Roman paid no attention to the teenager's outrage, pushing them out of his mind as he came to a single conclusion. After all, with his mind focused solely on Red's reactions, the criminal couldn't ignore the fact that the Beacon brat before him was completely oblivious to the White Fang's latest operations. "What were you talking about? What happened at Mountain Glenn? What's the breach?"

"... Hey Red." The criminal's voice was serious, no longer carrying the teasing tone that it had for conversation's prior. It seemed that the girl picked up on this, as her posture gradually changed to a more serious tone. "Why don't you tell me the last thing _you_ remember, huh?"

The hooded girl seemed to debate this question for a few moments, her gaze shifting away from Torchwick as she furrowed her brow in contemplative thought. Really, what's she confused about? Roman was the one who had to figure out this stupid mystery. All the brat had to do was answer his damned question, and then she could go back to whatever it was kids did these days.

"The last thing... I remember?" Why was she so confused about that question? Was it really a difficult thing to answer? "I already told you. The last thing I remembered was Beacon."

Roman bit back an irritated sigh. Of _course_ it was. That's why he was asking in the first place. Still, it seemed like she didn't pick up on that little detail, so the crook had to clarify. "I mean, what's the last thing about Beacon that remember. Anything noteworthy? News, people, major events? Anything ringing a bell?"

"... Well... "

Finally, the girl's gears started turning. Still, Roman shouldn't be upset, since this little question-and-answer session was faster than most other interrogations he had participated in. Then again, he didn't exactly deal with children for information, beyond the occasional street urchin that could be bribed with a fistful of Lien. Not exactly interrogation.

"We were preparing for the School Dance. Blake was worried about something, but Yang seemed to talk her out of it. Oh! And there was this thing in combat class where Pyrrha..."

Of course this wasn't an interrogation. In interrogations, you end up with _something useful_. Instead, Roman had the misfortune of listening to a teenager recount her stupid high school events. College events? What category did a huntsman school fall into, exactly? Not that he was actually interested in that answer, either.

"...other students from the other academies."

Wait, what? Was that something actually useful that Red glossed over? After all, if he remembered correctly, Cinder's group had been using their student status as a cover. He had to confirm.

"Sorry, what was that? I stopped paying attention after you brought up your mutt."

A shrill voice was Red's response, as well as another pout. "Hey! Zwei's not a mutt! And how do you know about him, anyways? I didn't mention him until now, and you brought him up earlier when we were in the dungeon."

Well, that certainly confirmed one thing: Red was completely oblivious to the Breach. If she wasn't, she wouldn't have brought up her stupid fireball corgi. At least, not in that way. Still, Roman was the one asking the questions, and he made this abundantly clear by sending a tired glance to the kid. "Focus, Red. What's this about other students from other academies?"

"I am focusing!" Her tone shifted from indignant to matter-of-fact, as little red riding hood quickly recounted her story once more. This time, Roman paid attention to the way she spoke about Cinder's two kids, as well as the sickeningly social attitude that Cinder herself seemed to adopt with her disguise. Honestly, Torchwick was tempted to ask if the brat had any recordings of his boss's cheery expressions, since that'd be an interesting thing to lord over her.

That temptation barely lasted for a second.

The important thing that he gleaned from Red's little retelling was that, according to her, Cinder had just arrived. Not only was that information out of date, it was _months_ out of date. Once again, worry filled the criminal's mind as he tried to make sense of this information. Why exactly was Red's rendition of events so far behind? Did she honestly forget? Or did she never know in the first place?

Honestly, Roman was hoping that the kid simply forgot. After all... If she forgot, that could at least be explained away by this world's weird systems screwing with... Something. Heck, even his own memories were spotty at certain places, despite the fact that he remembered everything after his arrival with absolute clarity. So, was it just a memory issue?

Unfortunately, Roman was no fool, and he had to consider the second possibility as well. If Red never knew the events of the breach in the first place, and the drivel she was spouting was the last thing she could remember... What did that mean for him? If magic memory shenanigans was really a thing that this world was capable of, was there any guarantee that his own memories weren't at fault? As loathe as he was to admit it, it was just as likely for his thoughts to have been modified one way as it was to have been modified another.

The rogue paused for a moment, as his mind ran over that statement one last time. Was mysterious memory modification really the only theory? After all, there was one more answer, and it was far more mundane than anything related to thought manipulation.

What if there _wasn't_ anything messing with their memories? What if Red simply forgot those events, through no outside influence? Sure, that might be a bit weird to say, especially given how important the Breach had been... But the kid was still a kid, as evidenced by her annoyance. What if she encountered something that might've forced her brain to close things off? Too traumatic and all that?

... Okay, even Roman scoffed at the idea. Repression's a thing and all that, but he seriously doubted that it was something _this_ extensive. Really, why did he bring it up? Neo was the one who enjoyed all those stupid stories and outrageous settings, after al-

"Hey Roman?"

Once again, the brat interrupted his line of thought. Not that that was a bad thing, this time around; as much as he'd like to say otherwise, the thief knew that he was getting no where with his mental gymnastics. "What is it, Red?"

"Well... Uh... I think we're here. And I think you should stop."

That was an odd way to put it. Why did she-

And that's when Roman Torchwick ran into a lamppost.

* * *

"Ho ho ho! Nice to see you again, Mr. Torchwick. Something on your mind? Looks like you had your head up in the clouds."

There was no malice in Guildmaster's voice as the two stepped inside the Merchant's Guild. Of that, Roman was certain, since he went through the pained effort of scrutinizing the bearded man. Unfortunately, there was no reason to lash out at the Guildmaster, and Roman had to be civil for this transaction, so he couldn't even allow himself the comfort of sarcasm.

"Actually, I-"

"Hey! It's not nice to laugh at people like that!"

Of course. Leave it to Red to interrupt a business transaction. Before he could get two words in edgewise, Roman's bratty companion decided to make her presence known, her childish voice echoing through the room.

"Ha ha. My apologies Rece-" There was a pause, as the Guildmaster finally took notice of the Merchant Guild's second arrival. Roman didn't really blame him for the confusion, since the 12-year-old merchant's voice was just as brazenly annoying as Red's was. "Wait, you're not Miss Lemongrass. I don't believe we've met, miss..."

"I'm Ruby Rose." Huh. That's her name? Well, Roman didn't particularly care one way or another, and it wasn't like he was going to change the way he addressed her. Red suits the little brat just fine.

"And as I was saying, it's not nice to laugh at people like that! Roman was just thinking of something, and he wasn't paying attention to where he was going! It's not something to laugh at! It happens to plenty of people! I mean, it's happened to me before, too!"

Okay, the last thing Roman wanted was to have _that_ in common with Red. Once again, the thief resisted the urge to bring his palm to his face, willing his patience into existence as he tried to gather his thoughts. After all, Roman was here for a reason, and the sooner he could get that out of the way, the better. He turned his attention back to the Guildmaster, who was obviously sensible enough to ignore the ramblings of a deranged brat like Red.

"Is that so? Well, I understand, since it's happened to me, too. And I live here, so I don't even have an excuse."

"Really? Well, as long as you know... Wait, you live here? What is this place, exactly?"

... The two were in their own stupid conversation. Of course.

Letting out a tired sigh, Roman settled his attention to the wares instead. If he wasn't able to conduct a proper business transaction, he'll just conduct a less-than-legal one instead. Not like anyone would notice, since the beacon brat was unaware of things at the best of times, and the Guildmaster seemed even duller than Junior's men. Leaving Red and the Guildmaster to their inane ramblings, Torchwick made his way to the back of the room.

After all, with so many items on display, it'd be remiss for the criminal to ignore them.


	11. Week 1: Supply Line

**Week 1: Supply Line**

* * *

Roman Torchwick was currently facing a dilemma.

Well, okay, putting it like that gave the problem far more credit than it was worth. In actuality, the well-dressed criminal was simply faced with a choice he'd rather not make. There were many times in his career where he'd have to make similar decisions, weighing the benefits of potential actions as he tried to balance risk and reward. Usually, he'd go for the most entertaining choice, but the criminal could see no clear-cut answer for his current moral quandary.

You know how he wanted to take advantage of Red as a distraction for the Guildmaster? Well, it worked.

And if this was Remnant, that would've been the end of that. Roman would've taken advantage of the situation, stealing everything remotely valuable before ditching Red to explain to the good shopkeeper why he was missing everything remotely valuable. But the problem was... This wasn't Remnant; this was some strange bizarro world that completely defies any of your past experiences, throwing them to wayside only to introduce completely nonsensical things.

What did he mean by that? Well, for starters, Roman had been 'browsing' the store for almost twenty minutes, searching through numerous shelves and counter-tops as he 'appraised' various goods. Normally, people would start asking questions after three minutes... Maybe ask if he needed help, or why he was looking exclusively at semi-valuable items that seemed to disappear a few moments later. Heck, even that senile old man from that one Dust shop would've gotten suspicious by now.

But while that may be true for some squinty-eyed geezer, it apparently wasn't the case for the bearded leader of the town's largest economic entity. At least, he assumed it was, considering the sheer size of the Merchant Guild's structure, as well as the fact that there were literally no other formalized shops around. Yet, in spite of his position and all the responsibilities it entailed, the Merchant Guildmaster had chosen to leave Roman alone, paying absolutely no attention to the suited criminal.

At first, he thought that reason why the bearded merchant had chosen to ignore him was because of how utterly worthless all these items were. The store seemed to have an affinity for junk, as it prominently displayed useless bits of trash that seemed to be targeted to no customer in particular. Pieces of barely treated wood planks lined the table, a crude leather strap the only thing distinguishing them from wood scrap. The shelves were lined with equally useless items, from poorly-sewn wool hats and worn swords, to round wooden carvings and... Wow, okay. Did they really call a few sheets of strewn-together scrap metal 'armour'?

Roman let out a sigh.

He really lucked out with finding this knife, it seemed. And even that could hardly be considered a stroke of luck, since the craftsman's knife in his possession was still a cheap tool that could probably be found anywhere.

Either way, Roman had simply assumed that the Merchant ignored him because he wouldn't be able to steal anything of value. That thought quickly disappeared when Roman had finally found a door near the back of the room, no doubt leading to wherever the Merchant stored his valuable items. In plain sight, without a single thing guarding the door. Well, okay, the door was technically locked, but even the system was so mundane that it took all of fifteen seconds for Roman to enter the backrooms. Without a single protest from the Guildmaster.

Which led to his current dilemma.

And again, it was less of an actual dilemma, and more of a choice he'd rather not make. You see, contrary to his beliefs, the backrooms contained no more valuables than the storefront had been. Guildfront. Whatever they wanted to call it. Either way, all it took was a cursory glance into the storage room to see that the crates within the storage area were either empty, or partially filled with shoddily made clubs.

What did this have to do with his problem? Well, you see, Roman Torchwick had had enough of this by this point. His mark was still the merchant's guild, so they _had_ to have something valuable. So how would he steal it? Unfortunately, he only had two proper choices: The first was to simply waste hours combing through the storage area, checking each and every shelf or crate in an effort to find something more valuable than a _freaking raincoat_. The second choice? He could just ask.

That thought filled Roman with... Not quite disgust, but rather, that feeling you get when you just want to kick something until it starts making sense. Why was he fuelled with this emotion? Why, because he was absolutely certain that the Guildmaster would agree to it, of course. This was bizarro world, after all, and the Guildmaster had proven himself to be on the same intellectual level as a brat like Red.

Which was stupid. So utterly stupid that Roman was tempted to choose to do neither, and simply return to the shop instead.

...Okay. Maybe he should call it a day, since his mind apparently thought that tolerating the company of that annoying tooth fairy was a better alternative to stealing from some idea. Was he just tired now? Roman let out an exhausted sigh, pushing that little thought out of his mind as he brought his gloved hand upwards, readjusting his bowler hat before slipping out of the storage room. Well, if he really was tired, the best thing to do would be to get someone else to do all the heavy lifting. With those thoughts in mind, Roman made his way back towards the front of the room, slowly approaching the two yapping morons who were still at the counter. And were still yapping at each other..

"...how I made my first weapon!" Red seemed completely oblivious to his sudden arrival, as did the guildmaster, both wearing ridiculously annoying smiles as they continued chatting with one another about... whatever it was these idiots talked about. "How about you? Did you ever make things?"

That slight pause was more than enough for Roman to slip into the conversation, clearing his throat as he settled his eyes onto the Beacon brat.

"Hey Red, you mind shutting up for a second? The grown-ups need to have a little talk." Torchwick gave a non-committal gesture towards the Guildmaster, then back to himself, his gloved hand lazily waving in the air. Well, not lazily, but his motions were still quite slow, plenty of deliberate and exaggerated movements to match the mocking tone in his voice.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough for little red riding hood to listen. Instead, she gave an indignant pout, her arms crossed as she glared up at Roman. Well, the glare could hardly be called a glare, since Roman felt no malice from it. Or any sort of ill intent, really. If anything, she just seemed to be squinting her eyes or something stupid like that, holding on to that ridiculous look for a few moments before finally speaking out.

"What?! But I'm a grown-up too, aren't I?"

"No. No, you really aren't." Roman Torchwick was not amused. He gave the girl a deadpan stare, his shoulders slacking, having absolutely no desire to take her seriously. At least, no more than he did with Cinder's group of children. Which, in case you were wondering, was 'not seriously at all'. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were some brat in grade school, given how annoying you are."

Okay, now she was giving him a glare. Not that it was particularly effective, mind you; Roman was already used to Neo and Cinder's angry little tantrums. Red had nothing on them. Heck, the expression she was wearing barely seemed more threatening than the braindead look of her stupid dog. Quite an achievement, really, and one that should be commended.

"Actually, you know what, Red? I take it back."

This seemed to draw out some confusion from the huntress-wannabe, the childish scowl on her face shifting into one of curiosity. That moment of blank incomprehension was all Roman Torchwick was looking for, wasting no time as he capitalized on it, quickly elaborating his viewpoint. "It's not because of how annoying you are that I think you're a brat. It's because of how short you are."

"...Hey! You take that back!"

And now, the glare's devolved into a pout. At least she pointed another angry finger at him, not that it meant anything. Really, she was only proving his point by acting out like this. Then again, he didn't really care how she reacted, shrugging the rest of her tantrum aside as he changed his expression, putting on a more professional tone as he turned his attention towards the Merchant Guildmaster.

"Now, about that discussion..."

The Merchant Guildmaster who was now wearing a ridiculous grin. Again, Roman's was reminded of how silly people in this world were. His usual business contacts never wore their emotions on their sleeve like this, always opting for more covert, controlled body language. Not that it was a problem or anything, since the Rogue could deal with both manners of communication... But still. What sort of business negotiation starts with a stupid smile?

Well, he might as well fake one. Roman put on a smile of his own, a formal mask filled with absolutely no sincerity, as he turned his attention fully to the bearded merchant. Even his tone was sickeningly polite, the same airs he used for dealing with those annoying political morons. "Is something the matter, Guildmaster?"

Granted, the man wasn't a political moron, so maybe Roman didn't need to-

"Ho ho! Not at all. I'm just surprised, Mr. Torchwick; I didn't think you and this young lady were such close friends." The idiot chuckled, completely sincere in his completely incorrect assessment. "Sure, I might've had a few doubts about you before, but after seeing how friendly you two are with each other? I'm glad to know that someone like you is helping out Recette."

Roman's smile cracked for a fraction of a second, the lower part of his left eye twitching as he processed the merchant's words.

Great. He wasn't a political moron at all. Just a normal one.

* * *

Despite the Guildmaster's blatant mental deficiencies, Roman Torchwick was eventually able to convince the man to show him some of the more valuable goods he had in stock. Not only that, but the merchant had even explained to Roman _why_ he had chosen to keep those items locked away in the first place. He had apparently missed it in the initial conversation given to Tinkerbell and the brat, but apparently, the guild only acts as a supplier for shopkeeper.

As a result, they kept the more expensive items locked away, until they had confidence that the local stores could sell the items. And considering the fact that the only shop in this stupid town belonged to little miss diabetes, the Rogue could understand why they stashed away all but the most useless items.

That wasn't to say that he was given access to the more exotic goods, either. The stuff he had been shown were little more than token improvements compared to the things he had seen in the front of the store, small-time change that just so happened to be more valuable than garbage. And considering how few were actually in stock, Roman couldn't exactly swipe them the same way he appropriated his new pocket knife.

Still, he did wonder where the most valuable items were being held. The only question was, what sort of cover could he use to justify asking? It'd be a bit weird to just ask about valuable jewelry, especially since people... seemed to ignore it in the first place, actually. And there was no real equivalent to dust, either. So what sort of things could he talk about that relied heavily on quality, yet didn't seem out of place?

Oh, right, of course.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have any better weapons and armour, would you?"

He had completely forgotten about the suicidal adventurer demographic. And since the little merchant had decided to make friends with that seedy looking swordsman guy, Roman had a legitimate reason for bringing it up. There was no way he wouldn't exploit that little bit of information. "Our little shopkeep has made a new friend, and he's the adventuring kind of guy, you know? She'd be crushed if something happened to him."

"Is that so?"

Roman's face was filled with false sincerity, serious yet fabricated, masking his internal grin as he heard the Guildmaster's voice. The worry and concern on the merchant's face was impossible to miss, and he could clearly see the man's expression as the bearded merchant seriously considered his statement. There was a slight pause, silence lingering only for a moment, before the other man gave his response.

"Unfortunately, we don't keep inventory on the more exotic items here."

Wait, what? That little admission annoyed the rogue, considering the fact that they were the damned suppliers. If they didn't have the items readily stored away somewhere, then what was the point of them? Was this related to their ridiculous system of gauging sales competency with that arbitrary 'merchant level' thing? Either way, he had to ask.

"Wait, why not?" Or, you know, Red could ask. Complete with her ignorant, wide-eyed expression. Part of him wondered if she even understood the discussion. Sure, it was stupidly simple, but he wasn't joking in the slightest when he noted the similarities between her and a grade schooler. Really, anyone whose life goals were to be a huntsman must've had a few screws loose or something.

Or was horribly naive.

Roman allowed that thought to linger for a single second. Not a moment more.

His attention quickly returned to the Guildmaster, looking expectantly for his answer. Considering what he had been told already, with the whole tiered inventory and sales competency grading in the form of the "merchant level" system, Roman had a rough idea of the reason. Still, that just means they had to keep the items stored away, right?

"Well... As I'm sure you've noticed, the merchant's guild isn't exactly bustling here in Pensee. With so few merchants, we decided it would be better to save on space and maintenance by only having the more common items in stock."

Yeah, that was about what he expected. Still, it was disappointing to get confirmation that this particular business venture was a failure. Not only that, but now that he knew about the tiered inventory system they had in place, it was clear to Roman that the guild's suppliers may not necessarily be local. _That_ piece of information was a quick way to stop plan B.

Well, no. It'd probably slow it down, but knowing the name of suppliers would still be beneficial to his future plans.

"Huh. You don't say." Roman gave a thoughtful tilt of his head, making a show of mentally weighing his options, a bit of truth mixed in with his facade as he shifted his gaze to a nearby shelf. "In that case, you wouldn't happen to know anyone who can make stuff like that, would you? For... Recette's friend, of course."

That last part was forced. As much as he preferred calling her by her title of sickeningly chipper brat, he was conducting business at the moment. Still, he'd have to find a better way to refer to the kid. Preferably one that didn't make him want to vomit.

"Actually..."

The Guildmaster's voice snapped Roman out from his thoughts. Once more, the bearded man wore a thoughtful expression on his face, his gaze tracing Roman's, as it settled on the shelf that the orange-haired crook was looking at. A shelf filled with... monster bits? Huh.

"You know, Mr. Torchwick, I don't normally do this. But I can tell you're a good man-" _Hah_. "-so I believe I can make an exception this time."

Horribly incorrect statement aside, the merchant's words was intriguing. Roman raised a single brow, a look of genuine curiosity on his face as he shifted his gaze back to the Guildmaster. What exactly was he talking about?

"Tell me... Have you ever heard of 'Item Synthesis' before?"


	12. Week 1: Synthesis

**Week 1: Synthesis**

* * *

This world was weird. That much was clear to Roman Torchwick.

Well, okay, that had been clear to the thief from the very beginning, way back when he had first met his pint-sized annoyance of an overseer. And things had only gotten worse when he had met the little brat merchant. And then the merchant's guild. Then Red and the adventurer's guild. And then th-

You get the point.

But the thing was, the orange-haired thief was slowly beginning to realize that there was more to this world than just a breach of common sense. 'Weird' wasn't enough to describe how everything was fundamentally different from Remnant. From how people behaved and conducted business, to how the economy seemed completely independent of supply, to how there was a magical dungeon that perpetuated a near-infinite pool of resources... This world simply had a completely different standard from the one he had been used to.

So, yes, this world was weird.

But at the same time, to everyone who lived here, these little bouts of public insanity were perfectly normal. In fact, he'd be considered the one acting weird, simply by expecting something different. At least, that's the only reasonable excuse he could come up with to justify things.

Now, you may be wondering, 'Why did Roman choose _now_ of all times to accept things as they are?' It's quite simple, really.

He didn't care anymore.

Truth be told, there comes a point when you simply get sick and tired of how things have escalated. And everything he had encountered up until this point had only sapped away at his patience for normalcy. Red certainly didn't help matters, nor did the fact that his future plans hinged on _dungeoneering_ of all things. So, when the world had decided to introduce the concept of Item Synthesis to him, was it any surprise that Roman simply stopped caring?

No, of course not. You're dense for even questioning it.

"How d-! Why th-! Could-!... _Huh_?"

Speaking of dense... It sounded like Red was having a bit more difficulty adapting to this world than he was. Not that he blamed her or anything, since that was his first reaction when the Merchant Guild Master had shown him the concept of item synthesis for the first time. At first, Roman had wanted to refuse the demonstration, as the prospect of watching a bearded man's fat fingers fumble around with intricate tools didn't exactly appeal to him.

However, he changed his tune when the Merchant Guild Master informed him of what the synthesis process actually entailed; It was nothing like traditional craftsmanship. There no tools involved, nor was any fine-motor skill required. No secondary materials, or waste products or anything of the sort. In fact, the only things that Item Synthesis seemed to require was a Merchant Guild Representative to oversee the process, and the actual items themselves.

So Roman ultimately decided to watch the process.

As a result, the suited criminal got a front-row seat to the entire Synthesis and Fusion process, which involved all sorts of things that simply wouldn't work, were they back in Remnant. But since they were not, the Guild Master completed the demonstration without any issues, ultimately synthesizing an ornate gemstone necklace. The item itself was certainly an interesting piece of work, and Roman had no doubt that it could've sold for a nice chunk of Lien in the Valean markets.

You know, if the customers overlooked the fact that it had been made using a dead lizard on a stick and some old seashell strung up with twine.

...Yeah, that was his reaction too.

He had asked the Guild Master for three more demonstrations, just to see if he had been hallucinating the entire thing. And the Guild Master complied, plopping out three more not-lizard necklaces. Wouldn't you know it? Roman wasn't seeing things after all; The process of making an Azure Necklace really did involve fusing together a stick of charred lizard with some stupid seashell necklace.

So yeah. You understand why Roman decided to stop caring about logic, right? He simply wasn't paid enough to deal with this. Sure, there were levels of weird that he tolerated... but this? Nope. He wouldn't even consider it a thing anymore. He had far too many _other_ things to worry about, so the criminal was just fine with ignoring how utterly unintuitive everything was.

He would accept things as they were. Which meant that, rather than wasting time complaining about nothing, the thief had a completely new order of business to tend to. Already, his mind lit up, his eyes slowly scanning the room as he took in his surroundings.

There was no doubt about it; they were in the back rooms of the Merchant's guild, and it showed. Crates of packed goods were lined up, the boxes filled to the brim with useless scrap items and discarded junk. There were plenty of tools strewn about, from small hammers and tongs, to even a massive smithy and workbench, both of which connected to a bellowing forge. Anvils, tool racks, and who knows what else were all in plain view, laying about and waiting for some criminal mind to take advantage of them.

Welp. Time to be productive.

Without giving the two morons another thought, Roman stepped away from the Guild Master and Red, slowly making his way to the back of the synthesis room. A part of him was a bit disappointed that he'd have to get his hands dirty, and a larger part thought the same of his clothes. However, this was a necessity, and given the fact that this place had so many materials for him to use...

Well, he's been without his signature weapon for far too long, wouldn't you say? Time to remake his favourite cane.

He'll just put the cost of materials on the fairy's tab.

* * *

This was... surprisingly simple.

Sure, he hadn't actually worked on honest metallurgy for years, but the thief still knew his way around tools. Granted he had had some difficulties with the workbench; there were a few times where he had to stop himself from making a set of lockpicks. And more than once, he had let his eyes wander, only to find himself halfway through constructing the outer casing of a bomb... But besides that, Roman Torchwick was honestly amazed that his muscle memory for handmade tools was still intact.

Perhaps he'll work on some stuff once he gets back to Vale. Maybe make some explosives for those White Fang mutts, then say Cinder got them from some SDC backroom deal. Or, better yet, he could just use those explosives on her little pair of brats. No one would suspect him of anything, and really, that woman was getting more full of herself with each passing day.

But... that's a concern for later. For now, Roman had more important things to worry about. Just because his skills hadn't dwindled didn't change the fact that he had to get this _stupid frame_ fitted right. Otherwise, his entire weapon's balance would be off, and it'd bother him to no end. Now, if only he had an alternative for the-

"Whatcha making?" A shrill, headache-inducing voice interrupted his train of thought. The worst part was, Red had paused at every syllable, putting on some stupid sing-song voice. Didn't She have the decency to just _ask_ like a normal human being?

"None of your business, Red." Roman's response was immediate, his tone dismissive as he let out a tired sigh. Why did she have to choose now of all times to show up? Not that he was worried about her finding out about his improved Melodic Cudgel or anything. Rather, his main worry was that the Beacon Brat would do something stupid and break something important. "Shouldn't you be sitting in the corner or something?"

"What do you mean it's none of my business? We're partners now, aren't we?"

Welp. Time to make a new frame. The vice had clamped too tightly on this one, and had bent it out of shape; Wonder how _that_ had happened. As he tossed the metal into the scrap bin, Roman forced himself to calm down, pushing away his irritation before finally turning away from the workbench. With no small amount of reluctance, the rogue settled his gaze on the hooded annoyance.

"... Really, Red? Really? I knew you're terrible at making sound decisions, but _partners_?" He didn't need to explain this point, right? Honestly, the brat was acting far more ... ludicrous than normal. And she was already a pretty crazy kid, given how often she'd interrupted his plans thus far. "Even you know how bad of an idea that is, right?"

"What do you mean?" And of course, she didn't. Instead, the brat tilted her head to the side, the motion almost exaggerated as she stared up at him. What made it worse was that, he knew she didn't do it on purpose. Unlike Neo's deliberate actions of mock curiosity, Red's little actions were completely natural and genuine. "We went on a team delve thingy into the dungeon, right?"

That's what she was basing this on?

Roman brought a hand up to his head, preemptively rubbing his temple, fully expecting a migraine to show up any minute. There really was no reasoning with her, was there? "... In case you forgot, you invited yourself to that."

"But you didn't say no!" Red's answer came the moment he had finished his statement, much to his chagrin. Either she had expected his protest, or she was thinking _far_ too much on the matter. "And besides... You helped cheer me up when I was down, too..."

Nope. He's not touching that misunderstanding again. Rather than acknowledge her words, Roman gave a noncommittal grunt, turning his attention back to the workbench. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd get bored and walk away or something. Because, you know, that worked for Neo, right?

"So that's why I wanna know what you're making!"

Surprising absolutely no one, Red prattled on, completely ignoring his lack of response. And what's worse, she seemed even more energetic than usual, her attention focused completely on Roman's workbench. Not for any logical reason mind you, at least not one Roman could see. And, you know what? He was perfectly fine with being ignorant of Red's stupid little motivat-

"I'm good with the forge, so if I know what you're trying to make, I can help! It's the least I can do to pay you back."

"... Pay me back?" Roman's eye twitched as he repeated those words. Not only was she going to persist in this terrible misunderstanding, she wanted to make it worse? Fine then! Let's see whether little miss goody-two-shoes was willing to help when she realizes what he was working on. "You know what? Fine! I would absolutely _love_ for you to help me remake my weapon."

"Your... weapon?"

"Yep." Roman smirked. Heck, he was in such a good mood, he even took a page from her book, acting the annoying brat as he popped the damned 'p' in the word. The rogue could clearly see the unease in her expression, the doubt that washed over her when he mentioned the weapon. There was no way she could ignore that thing, not when he had nearly killed her and her teammates with it. "I'm sure you, of all people, remember it."

To Roman's relief, there was a slight pause, as the girl's face turned into a worried frown. It was clear to him that the brat couldn't come up with a response, and that suited him just fine. Giving her a single dismissive shrug, the thief turned his attention back to the workbench, intent on-

"You mean... All this time, you've been stuck here all alone, trying to help other people without even your own weapon?"

Roman's face hit the workbench.

There was no getting through to this idiot, was there? Part of him wanted to give up, to just leave her to her stupid delusions and return to his _important_ work... But Roman knew he couldn't; He did that with the last misunderstanding, and now she was clinging to her stupid ideal like a mindless puppy. He couldn't let another mistake get out of hand.

Now determined, the criminal straightened his back, turning away from the workbench as he settled his gaze on the huntress-wanna-be, a prominent scowl plastered on his face.

"Listen, Red. You seem to be misunderstanding something. Clinging onto some stupid ideal, all because you can't accept a simple truth." He locked his gaze with the silver-eyed brat. This was it; He would make sure that this idealistic moron of a child understood his position. "I am _not_ a good guy. I only have one reason for helping out the twelve-year-old merchant, and that reason is purely selfish. So why don't you just stop pretending otherwise, an-"

"Nope!"

She jus- what di-... Gah!

" _Damnit Red_ , we've had this argument already!" He wasn't sure whether to hit himself or the workbench. Either way, Roman was getting thoroughly annoyed by this entire run-around. All he wanted to do was to make his weapon in peace. Wasn't that why beardo was lecturing Red? Where the heck was he, anyways?

"And we'll have it again." Not that it mattered anymore. Red was here now, being _Red_. And she was going on her stupid thing again. The girl's voice softened, turning her gaze away as she continued her words. Sure, he'd like to interrupt them, but he was growing more and more exasperated with each passing second.

"You're not as... bad as you think you are, Roman. If you were, then you wouldn't have agreed to help Recette. A-and you would've just ditched me in the dungeon, or ignored Tear when she said that you had to help me." Once more, Red settled her silver eyes on him, her face full of insufferable hope and self-delusion. "But you didn't. And you haven't done anything to hurt anyone since you've ended up here."

 _Of course he hasn't. Does she not understand what incognito is?_

That's it. This ridiculous.

Unbearable, even. This entire day, he had had to listen to this girl, complete with all her misguided words. And you know? He didn't care anymore. Letting out a heavy breath, Roman gave up, sitting himself down on a nearby chair as he threw a tired glance at the Beacon Brat.

"You know what, Red? I don't care anymore. Believe whatever you want to believe." And he meant it. This tirade had gone on long enough. Rather than perpetuate it further, Roman turned back towards the workbench, his hand reaching to a nearby box as he attempted to find a suitable piece of metal. "I'm just gonna work on this now."

And find one he did. Because Red handed one to him. God _damnit._

"... So... Does that mean I can help?"

* * *

"And just where were you two?"

You know something? Roman would like to take back all the stuff he'd said about the fairy's annoying voice. As banal as it was, the blue night-light's tone was a welcome reprieve to what the thief had had to work with for the whole day.

"Roman and I visited the Merchant's Guild!" Not like _that_ voice. That one brought no small amount of headache to the thief, and he couldn't help but let out a tired groan as Red's shrill voice pierced through the shop. Unfortunately, he suffered alone, as neither the fairy nor the merchant kid seemed to mind. "We brought back some stuff for Recette to sell!"

"Is... that so?" Thumbelina's tone was... surprised. Huh. So the fairy could manage more emotions beside annoyed and domineering. Not like it mattered to Roman, since he simply didn't care anymore.

"Mmhmm! You see, we..." And there she goes.

Roman was just happy that the brat was bothering someone else, now. Heck, Red was already a chore to deal with back when they had fought. Now that he had to tolerate her presence for more than a few minutes at a time? He could scarcely understand how people would choose teaching as a career path.

Well... Okay. In spite of everything that had happened today, there were still a few benefits that the thief simply couldn't.

First and foremost, this entire day had been one long trial of patience. Which, in turn, meant that he probably had enough patience now to deal with Cinder and her two little underlings. Not permanently, of course, but a five minute increase was still priceless, given how bad those three could be.

And, technically, he did accomplish something that had indirectly helped the twelve-year-old merchant. It didn't matter that he had been reluctant about it, or that he had his own plans in mind; the little outing was more than enough to prove to the blue fairy that he could be trusted. Hopefully, that meant more time for himself in the future. _Away from Red._

Red... She was a headache and a half, wasn't she? Throughout that entire babysitting session, she had been a hindrance. There were few moments of actual silence when it came to that girl, as she seemed to teeter between indirectly annoying him with stupid questions, and directly annoying him by interrupting his work. Fortunately, she wasn't his problem anymore.

Roman gave a momentary glance back towards the Fairy, just to confirm that she was still locked in conversation with the hyperactive Beacon Brat. And she was, which suited him just fine. The less he had to deal with them, the better.

All he wanted to do right now was nap.

The criminal made his way to the back of the room, slipping past the fairy and redhead with a single practiced step, as he slipped behind the counter. He only gave a single glance to the twelve-year-old working behind the desk, his eyes staring down at her. Recette, for her part, seemed content to wear her stupid expression, completely oblivious to the world around her as she watched Red and the Fairy converse.

Well, who was he to distract her?

"Here you go, brat." The kid snapped out of her daze, the brief sound of Roman's voice quickly snatching the merchant's attention as she stared up at him. Roman, for his part, simply rolled his eyes, giving out a tired sigh before returning the girl's glance. "Random stuff from the dungeon. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get some sleep. You mind telling those people to just leave me alone?"

"O-oh! Thankies Roman!" The merchant's voice chirped out, shooting made-up words of gratitude as she smiled up at him. "I'll let Tear and Ruby know that you're taking a nap, i-if they end up trying to look for you or something."

"Sure, whatever. Now, if you don't mind..."

He let his voice trail off, throwing a glance towards the door before turning back to the brat. His motions were slow and exaggerated, which hopefully meant that it was simple enough for the child to understand. Sure, he could've just been clear with his words, but he was genuinely exhausted, and he had done his good deed for the day.

"Okay! G'night, Roman!" It seemed she understood his meaning, which was more than enough for the thief. Part of him wondered whether it was even nighttime at the moment, but for the rest of his mind simply didn't care. The man gave out neutral grunt, barely acknowledging the kid's words as he opened the backroom do- "And nice stick!"

Stick? Did she just call the new Melodic Cudgel a stick?

In that case, Roman had a plan for tomorrow. Rather than what he had intended to do earlier, it seemed that Roman's new schedule consisted of ignoring the shop entirely, leaving early in the morning to visit the Adventurer's guild. Of course, it'd be a shame if he had extremely bad luck in the dungeon, and ended up finding nothing for the kid's stupid shop. Oh well.

Okay, perhaps he did need sleep. With a single gaze, Roman turned his attention to the merchant girl, letting out a sigh as he spoke out. "... It's called a cane."

"It is? Sorry..." Of all the things to get upset over, the merchant kid had chosen that little point to worry about. She turned her gaze down to the counter for a record-breaking 4 seconds, before suddenly snapping up to face the thief. "In that case, I like the cane!"

"Sure, whatever." And he was done now. Roman gave one final check of his person, making sure that he had dropped off all the useless items he had found in the dungeon, before turning to face the door proper. "You mind if I get some sleep now?"

"Only if you teach me how to draw that design!" Recette's sudden question threw Roman's mind into disarray for a split second, as the thief couldn't help but blink at that her request.

Design? That was an odd thing to ask about... After all, Melodic Cudgel's design was simply a traditional carved pumpkin face, and those were things made by bratty children like her. It wasn't exactly something to teach, and Roman wasn't exactly in the mood to teach it were he able to. Surely, the merchant was capable of drawing something as simplistic as a carved pumpkin, right? He gave the girl a confused glance, only to find her staring at a particular part of the cane.

A part that most definitely didn't not the symbol on it.

Roman's eyes followed the girl's gaze, his thoughts changing from tired indifference to slight confusion as he spotted the design Recette had been talking about.

Now that's odd. Why was there this stupid looking wing symbol on his cane?


	13. Week 1: Thief

**Week 1: Thief**

* * *

It's a beautiful day, isn't it?

Sure, the sun might not be up, and there aren't exactly any birds screeching their heads off yet, and let's not even consider the fact that the rest of the town's probably still unconscious... but that just makes the day that much better, really. What better way to wake up than under the cover of darkness, free to do whatever it was his profession had asked of him, with no one the wiser? Roman Torchwick was definitely one who could appreciate the early, _early_ morning.

With that said, just because his day had started off well didn't mean that Torchwick was pleased. On the contrary, the first thing he had noticed when he had woken up was that some joker had decided stick a note on the brim of his hat. Fortunately, the handwriting informed him that the joker had been the fairy, which meant that the adhesive wouldn't damage his signature headwear. Unfortunately, the handwriting had also informed him that he was supposed to watch over the shop today, for whatever reason.

Yes, "whatever reason". It might not have been what was written on the paper, but Roman read it as such. After all, there's no way someone would purposely order him to stick around in some run-down shack of a shop, just so he could teach _Red_ the basics of entrepreneurship, right? Of course not!

Which was why he promptly crumpled the paper, tossing it aside as he pulled himself to his feet.

Speaking of Red, the thief was glad to find out that the fairy, at the very least, had enough sense to assign the hooded headache to another room. Given how spacious the backroom was, Roman was honestly worried that Tinkerbell would've tried to rationalize the room's use as a dormitory. Well, there's no way he'll let that happen. Just because this room had plenty of space, as well as a curious supply of couches, was no reason for him to tolerate nuisances like the Beacon brat. And since the fairy had recognized that, Roman could concede that maybe she wasn't as stupid as-

Oh, wait, not. Forget everything he had just brought up; he completely forgot that he had bolted the backroom door shut. You know, on account of not wanting to be disturbed after how exhaustive his day had been?

So yeah, fairy's still an idiot. Still, that begs the question of how she managed to get in to stick this stupid note on him.

As if on cue, a whistling groan echoed from a nearby window, drawing Roman's attention towards the open sill. _Of course_ it was the window sill. Fortunately, his usual sleeping attire was suited for the elements, and being the perfect criminal that he was, Torchwick was immune to petty concepts such as 'sickness', 'colds' and 'tolerating that stupid nightlight'.

Besides, he had plans today. Technically, he had plans yesterday as well, but they had been ruined by Red's unexpected appearance. As usual. But now that he was aware of her, Roman could work around her annoying presence... Part of the reason he woke up so early, really. And considering that the hooded girl was suffering from an acute lack of common sense, and had decided to ignore his criminal status, there was little doubt that his plots will end up going that much smoother.

Without wasting another moment, Roman made his way to the door, one hand gripping his new cane with practiced ease. Sure, the weapon was no Melodic Cudgel, but it still felt familiar in his grasp. As he began unbolting the door, his eyes wandered to the metallic bludgeon, taking in the sight of its pitch-black design.

As loathe as he was to admit, Red was decent with weapon work, and besides the stupid wing emblem that she had put on the cane, he was mostly content with it. It wasn't a match for his previous weapon, but that didn't change the fact that it was dangerous in its own right. Not only was it lightweight and easy-to-use, but the thing somehow held enough strength to crack open a safe.

Well, he assumed it did; the anvil he had tested the thing on was probably sturdier than one, and he had managed to dent it after strengthening the cane with his Aura. A nice benefit, to be sure, but not one that was necessarily needed today. After all, today's little foray would require a bit more... finesse more than anything else. And finesse was something that Roman excelled in.

As proof of that point, Roman had already left the shop... Not that a few bolts were really indicative of his skill. No, what had cemented his little expertise was the fact that, for some stupid reason, Red was fast asleep behind the store counter. The counter itself was cluttered with randomly scribbled notes, and while the rogue had no doubt that they would've explained the brat's presence, he really didn't care. So yeah, he had left the shop, slipping out into the empty streets without disturbing any of the building's annoying inhabitants.

The moment his feet touched the cobblestone, Roman Torchwick turned his sights to the Adventurer's Guild once more.

* * *

Now, you may be wondering _why_ Roman had decided to return to the Adventurer's Guild. After all, he had already wasted half a day there, and besides the weird Power Crystal things, he hadn't really earned much in the way of profit. Then there was the fact that the Guild was still technically closed, and that this little action would probably force the stupid fairy into more drastic measures for his surveillance.

Well, _that's_ what he was counting on. Well, okay, he also wanted to see if the guild had anything worth swiping, and if there were other dungeons besides their little test dungeon.

But Roman was also curious how the fairy would respond if she was forced to escalate the matter. Surely she noticed that he had made a new stick; if she were smart, she would've realized that, while expensive, Roman could afford to lose his signature cane. He wouldn't enjoy it, mind you, but now that he had a tangible way to strike back at the Terme Finance Company, Roman needed to know what he was dealing with. And seeing the fairy's response was just one way to solve that little mystery.

With that thought in mind, the classy criminal continued onward, darting between the town's spacious alleyways as he-

As he grabbed the metallic bracer of an errant arm.

"Well well? What do we have here?" Roman threw a sharp glance towards the arm's owner, mildly surprised to encounter a pickpocket. Honestly, he was under the assumption that there was no crime in this town, due to the lack of guards. Turns out, he was wrong, as evidenced by the young woman with dark blue hair, staring back at him with an irritated expression on her face. Well, irritation wasn't the same as panicked, so she obviously wasn't worried about her position.

And he could see why. All Torchwick needed was a simple glance to see that the woman wasn't some common thug. In fact, she reminded him of that brat followed Cinder; Both of them seemed light on their feet, both of them seemed to have a thing for exposing their navel, and both of them carried hidden blades that anyone half-way competent would notice... Speaking of which.

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there." Roman's voice shot out, a smirk on his face as his noticed the woman's free hand slip to her side, only to freeze the moment his gaze fell on it. "Didn't anyone tell you it's bad manners to steal from someone you just met? Not to mention trying to stab them afterwards; that's a social faux pas right there."

"Is that so?" To her credit, she recovered quickly, returning his wry smile with one of her own. "I can't say I'm exactly well-mannered though, so you'll just have to deal with it. And besides, you're not any old mark yourself, are you? It's not every day someone walks in with a suit and fancy cane like that. Surely you can spare a few things."

At those words, the woman yanked her arm away. To most people, this probably would've given her the opening she needed to escape. Unfortunately for her, however, Roman had expected it. Rather than escape, her little action had left her unbalanced for a split second, and Roman wasted no time capitalizing on it.

He brought up his weapon in a flourish, striking out at the woman in a fluid motion, the metallic cane shimmering beneath the moonlight as it whistled through the air. His opponent responded in kind, shifting her weight backwards as she drew her daggers, bringing them up just in time to deflect his strike. The loud clang of metal against metal filled the air, signalling the formal start of their duel, as Roman quickly recovered from the strike with a single twirl of his cane.

There was no wasted motion, the classy criminal maintaining his weapon's momentum as he spun the weapon to his side, parrying the woman's thrust as he deflected one of her daggers. Neither combatant was affected by the clash, Roman's stance shifting backwards while his opponent spun with her blade. Her motions carried her through to a second attack as she brought her other blade to bear, the other dagger slashing at Roman's chest.

Rather than aura and cloth, her blade found empty air, as Roman kicked backwards in a single motion, only to lunge forward with a thrust of his cane. Unlike the pickpocket's attack, Torchwick's aim was true, the weighted end of his cane striking at the woman's wrist with a dull thud.

Yet, the woman kept her grip on her dagger, her stance barely changing in response to his strike, as she prepared another attack. This time, she closed the distance between them, slipping into Roman's guard in an attempt to avoid more of his weapon. A smart move on its own, since he wouldn't be able to swing his weapon as effectively. Too bad he didn't need to swing it. He had another weapon, after all.

Roman snapped his arm to the side, driving the cane towards his opponent, less of a strike and more of a powerful shove as the metal bludgeon lashed out at the woman. She parried it, of course, but that little window was all Roman needed to draw his own knife, his left hand gripping the craftsman's blade with practiced ease. Dagger met dagger as the pickpocket tried to counter, only to have her attack thwarted by the suited criminal.

Neither combatant stayed still, quickly recovering from their little clash as they drew back, eyes locked with one another.

"Well well. Looks like you aren't a run-of-the-mill street rat after all. Could've fooled me." Roman's voice was calm and level as he examined the woman, watching each little shift and twitch of her body. She was certainly skilled, but it'd be a stretch to say anything more than that. After all, the blue-haired pickpocket was hardly the most difficult person Roman had fought with.

And judging by the look on her face, she couldn't share that sentiment. The woman's previous smirk was replaced by a a subtle frown, barely perceptible as she stared back at him. Her face tried to be stoic, or grim or something, but Roman could see past her silly little mask. She had bitten off more than she could chew, and they both knew it.

"And you're no regular berk, yourself." Torchwick arched an eyebrow at that, but kept his gaze on the pickpocket as she spoke. Silly words aside, she was reaching her limit, and all he had to do was wait for her to slip up. Or, if she was the monologuing type, wait for that opportunity. Either way, Roman was all but prepared to strike. "How about we call it a draw?"

... Ha.

"How about no? Brats like you need to know when you've messed up." His smirk was automatic, as he kept his stance up, shifting the hold he had on his knife as he gripped his cane. However, that smirk soon faded when he noticed her expression change. That, and her hand slipping into one of her pouches.

"Well, I tried."

She threw something forward. Roman jumped out of the way, cleanly avoiding the strange net that his opponent had attempted to throw at him... No, it wasn't _just_ a net. He could tell that it was something more than that, from the way it glowed as it clung to the ground. Still, he couldn't figure out much more, as the did not have the luxury of time.

The moment she threw the thing, the pickpocket did something else, the air around her flickering for just a moment before forming into a second shadowy copy of her. That copy stood still for only a second, before dashing straight towards the classy criminal.

"Damnit! I didn't think you people had Semblances."

Roman brought his cane up just in time to parry the shadow's dagger, feeling much less force from the strike than he had felt when the woman herself attack. Still, it was hardly something he could ignore, and the criminal couldn't help but grit his teeth in frustration as he watched the woman join her clone.

Intangible shadow blades danced in sync with very tangible metal blades, swinging and stabbing at the air around Torchwick. Few attacks actually found their mark, as Roman's cane was more than adequate enough to deflect the strikes. Still, a few attacks made their way through, cutting at his pristine suit every so often, the damage superficial as his aura protected him from the strikes.

His own attacks had a more visible effect, the shadow clone visibly flinching each time it failed to dodge his cane. And the stick of metal was just as effective on the real thing as it was on her body double, a pained cry filling the air as the metal weapon struck against pickpocket's stomach. And despite those attacks, both combatants stood strong. Roman's aura warded off the pickpocket's daggers, while the woman used sheer determination to endure his cane.

But, as with all things, determination can be undermined. And as the woman's daggers cut away at Torchwick's clothes, more and more of his undamaged skin became visible. There was no doubt that she could see her weapons striking against him, metal trying to cut into skin, only to have no effect.

"W-what?"

She hid her panic well. Not well enough, since Roman still heard it, but... not incompetently. More than what he could say for some minions he's had. Still, it was about time to end this little duel, wasn't it? He had the upper hand, and even if his aura was steadily being depleted, it didn't matter; he had more than enough to put on a show.

"Well, you see street rat..." Roman's voice started off chipper, as though he were explaining a simple concept to a White Fang moron. However, its tone changed drastically, growing an edge that only a practiced criminal could give off, as he finished his words. "... You're out of your league."

This time, his cane was imbued with aura as he struck out, and neither of them missed the sound that followed. Metal met metal as he bashed the dagger out from the pickpocket's hand. There was a brief moment of silence, barely lasting a second, before being broken by the sound of someone's useless toy as it was buried into the wall. The silence that followed _that_ lasted far longer.

His eyes fell on the pickpocket, and Vale's most wanted criminal saw the alarm that was slowly filling the pickpocket's eyes. Her gaze shifted to the brick wall for just a moment, fully processing the fact that it now had an oversized pin stuck to it, before returning to Torchwick.

Torchwick smirked.

The woman ran.

"... Huh. Well, that was certainly eventful."

Roman gave out a tired sigh, complaining to no one in particular as he watched the woman flee. On one hand, he could pursue her... But, again, he had actual plans today. Rather than chase after some wanna-be criminal, the _real_ criminal had to visit the Adventurer's Guild. He still hadn't scouted the place for potential valuables, and Torchwick had some business in the dungeons. Besides, he was fairly certain that the pickpocket wouldn't be bothering him again anytime soon.

So, he relaxed, letting his shoulders droop as he brought his cane back to the floor. His eyes turned away from the distant figure as she ran out of sight, focusing instead on the dagger that he had slammed into the wall. All things considered, he should probably pull it out before someone notices it. Then again, he wasn't sure if the people in this place even cared about stuff like that, or who they would complain to if they did.

Still... He could probably find a use for the thing.

With some difficulty, he pulled the weapon out from the wall, frowning a bit as he noticed how damaged the thing had gotten. Its curved blade was chipped and scratched, its edge hardly suitable for cutting _anything_. And just as damaged was its handle, the hand guard half-shattered while a sizeable crack ran down the side of the grip. He wasn't quite sure how he had managed to damage it like that, but... He'd have to get it repaired.

Perhaps he should visit the Merchant's Guild first? It wasn't exactly out-of-the-way, and he could ask the Guild Master if he had any information about that blue-haired pickpocket. After all, he was surprised to see that there were people besides him taking advantage of the local populace. And if this city had one criminal, who's to say it didn't have more? Besides, even if he seemed to be an incompetent businessman, the Guild Master would probably still be privy to knowledge regarding the city's criminal underground.

Yeah, he might as well check. Nodding to himself, Roman Torchwick was about to step out of the alley way, only for something to catch his eye.

The weird net thing from earlier was still stuck to the ground, and it was still glowing with the same weird glow that it had when the pickpocket had thrown it. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. The glow it gave off was definitely unnatural, emanating from the net with an odd sensation. Roman brought his cane forward, hesitantly poking at it, only to find that the net itself was somehow intangible.

What?

Okay, no, he had seen odd things like this before, especially in the dungeons. Maybe it was related to this world's weird Power Crystal system? Which meant that it should still technically interact with him and his aura. Too bad he had no idea _how_ it was going to do that.

Letting out a sigh, Roman shook his head. As much as he'd like to figure out how the net worked, he wasn't too enthused about poking it with his finger. Which was a shame, since the pickpocket had obviously been practiced enough to use it fluidly, which meant that it was useful in her line of work. And since his line of work was essentially a better version of her line of work, it probably would've been useful to him as well. Especially if it's using the energy from power crystals, rather than Aura.

...Hmm.

Okay, maybe he'd been spending too long around Tinkerbell and the two brats. He was seriously considering the prospect of testing the net. It wasn't like his aura wouldn't protect him, and if he knew what the exact effect was, he'd be better prepared for the woman the next time she tried something. And even if he couldn't understand it, it'd give him an idea of what things in this world were capable of. It might actually be worth it to step onto the net, just to see its effects.

Of course, Roman Torchwick knew that there was another way to answer all those issues. And since he wasn't an _idiot_ , he wasted no time in choosing that particular solution instead. Now... the only problem left is _where_ he'd find someone expendable enough to test the net with. It was times like these that he missed the White Fang.

Fortunately for him, the moment he had that thought, Roman saw a certain seedy Adventurer from beyond the alleyway, casually wandering the streets with a dopey expression on his face. He wasn't quite sure why Recette's newest friend was out and about so early in the day, nor did he really didn't care. The young man was definitely gullible enough to use as a guinea pig, and as long as the net doesn't result in irreparable physical or mental trauma, no one will be the wiser.

So, with a plan in place, Roman called out to the distant swordsman, a smirk forming on his face.

"Hey kid! You got a minute?"


	14. Week 1: Ability

**Week 1: Ability**

* * *

"Thanks for your help, kid. Buy yourself something nice."

While Roman was always a supporter of cheap labour, this didn't mean that he was stingy. Rather, he believed that everything had a price, and that if you could find someone willing to match it, you should honour that price. A crook he may be, but his line of work required integrity just as often as it did deceit. Sure, most people might find that weird, but you can't really survive this kind of environment without a certain level of trust.

And, surprising as it may be, Roman Torchwick put a lot of trust in a lot of things. For instance, he trusted in Junior's ability to provide an expendable labour force without question. He trusted Neo's ability to bail him out should be bite off more than he could chew. He even trusted Red to try and ruin all of his plans—this one included. Most importantly, however, was that trusted in the fact that there were brats out there who simply didn't understand the full value of things.

Sure, he believed everything had a price... But if someone was willing to do the same amount of labour for a far cheaper cost? Well, you should honour that price.

"T-thanks!"

He almost felt bad for the poor schmuck. All things considered, the classy criminal had honestly expected this Louie kid to have better haggling skills than that... embarrassment. The seedy little swordsman certainly looked like he had run into his fair share of hardship, and that was usually enough to temper most people. Or, you know, give them some sort of motivation not to get scammed again? Yet, the kid accepted his price at face value, without even questioning the nature of work. When the actual problem and potential for danger was brought up, all it took to seal the deal was a single loaf of walnut bread.

If they were on Remnant, the crook would've never found such an exploitative price from _anyone_. Not even faunus orphans would've accepted such a pittance... Yet this Louie kid took it with a smile. Was it because the moron was an adventurer that he could get by on ignorance? Maybe.

Not that it mattered. The adventurer wanna-be had gotten what he had wanted, Roman Torchwick had gotten what he wanted, and the fact that that it had left the novice swordsman stuck in some magical net was of little consequence to either party. That kid was content with a handful of pix and some loaf of bread, and Roman had received some interesting information about a certain little thing called magic.

 _Magic_.

The thief couldn't help but smile. He was no stranger to the concept, of course. It was a prominent feature of all sorts of fiction, fairy tales, and whatever else it was that fools read. Not that he learned about it from such sources; Roman Torchwick was no longer a fool. No, his experience with magic came from the fact that he had seen it used. On him. By a certain psychopathic witch.

The thought alone was enough to dampen his spirits, but the crook still pushed his mood onward. Cinder can only ruin so much, and _this_ particular discovery was something she couldn't touch.

You see, in this carefree world of silliness, anyone could use magic. Sure, most people were stupid and just used it in the way that seemed most convenient to them—swordsmen just use it to sword better, street rats use it to run faster or throw silly nets—which was why they just called it an 'Ability'. But Roman knew that this was something more complex than the simple abilities he knew of... more complex than aura or semblances. Whatever it really was, it was tied to the Power Crystals that he had been absorbing from the dungeon. And from what he could see of it? It ignored far more physics and natural laws than Aura could ever hope to.

So he'll just have to learn about the thing himself. To survive, especially against that fiery bitch, meant he needed to do no less than. And to thrive, he'll have to do more than just learn.

With those thoughts in mind, the suited criminal turned his thoughts away from that dilapidated alleyway and directed them northward, towards the Adventurer's Guild. If anyone in this world had resources on magic, it'd be those suicidal thrill-seekers.

* * *

"Oh, you'd like to learn more about magic? Of course we can help!"

Was it cynical of him that he had expected the receptionist to speak those words with a sarcastic tone, rather than an overly enthusiastic one? Then again, his past associates had been people who were more self-serving, and tended to ask questions if you didn't establish yourself as a threat or asset. And while he could certainly be both to this particular organization, the pink-haired woman behind the counter didn't even bother asking for his name, let alone reasons.

"Just head down that hall and take the third door on your left—That's the library! I'm sure it's got what you're looking for." The woman was so energetic, she was practically leaning over the front desk, pointing comically at the distant hallway as she spoke out. Maybe she was just neurotic, and felt a need to overdo everything? Roman threw a short glance at the woman, looking over her expression to find some sort of answer. Of course, the woman chose to interpret this as something else entirely. "Oh, right! I almost forgot! If you're an officially licensed adventurer, make sure to mention it to the librarian! He'll show you the more advanced books! Have a nice day now!"

And with that, the woman turned her attention back to the desk, directing her efforts to the papers in front of her with the same upbeat attitude she had shown Roman. Her posture didn't change as the crook stepped away, the receptionist continuing to hum a tune to herself, even as he walked out of earshot.

Yeah, he had absolutely no idea what to make of her.

Not that it mattered. He was here to get a new tool, not psychoanalyse a complete stranger, even if that stranger was somehow the only person he'd seen in the guild halls so far. Just where was everyone? Regardless, the well-dressed criminal made his way to the door in question, his eyes fixed on the crudely scrawled "Library" sign. The sign itself was embossed and gilded with a professional finish, and that single bit of detail was the only reason he didn't consider the entire place a joke. Instead? Well, it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd seen today, so it was business as usual.

As he stepped into the library, Roman was surprised to find the place as... well-kept as a normal one. And with curiously mundane topics, too, if the overhanging signs of 'History', 'Fiction', 'References', and 'Romantic Drama' were any indication. Whatever 'Romantic Drama' was supposed to be.

Either way, what wasn't surprising was the fact that there were barely any people in the library; most of the desks were empty, and the few that were taken housed people who had chosen to use them as makeshift beds moreso than anything else. There was even one person who was wrapped up in an extravagantly silly cloak, bundled like they were some sort of sleeping bag with their head buried in a book. Overall, the sight was what he had expected from a Library in a lifeless building like this.

But he had more important things to worry about. The crook made his way up to the front desk, his steps slow and deliberate as his gaze turned to the person overseeing the library. The librarian himself seemed to be a bit on the short side, wearing an oversized cloak with his head buried in a book. Not physically imposing, all things considered, and the closest thing to a weapon he could see was some overgrown stick propped up against that desk. Still, a cloak that big can hide a lot of lethal surprises, so Roman kept an eye on the short individual.

"So." The criminal started abruptly, interrupting the librarian from whatever it was he was reading. "I don't suppose you've got any books on magic in this place, do you?"

"What sort of simple-minded question is that?" The voice that answered him was far higher pitched than what he had expected, and carried a tone of annoyed prepubescence mixed with faux superiority. Roman swore internally, already recognizing the grating voice as he let out a tired sigh. Of _course_ it was another brat. "Where do you think you ar- _You!_ "

Okay, that's surprising. He definitely recognized the brat as the one from the whole 'adventurer orientation' thing, but he didn't think the kid would've recognized him. He was hardly all that noticeable... Well, except for the fact that he was dressed far more sensibly than the rest of the rabble around here. And that included the kid before him. Roman wasted no time as he stared down at the kid, an unamused look in his eyes as he spoke with a flat tone. "Me."

"You're the one who left my lecture the other day!"

The kid, on the other hand, had a mixture of indignation and anger in his eyes as he stared back up at Roman. Of course, that irritation soon faded to doubt as Roman gave him a single dismissive glare. To the kid's credit, he kept up his entitled glare, but Roman was used to dealing with pint-sized threats like _Neo_. However good this kid was, he simply had nothing on Roman's dichromatic partner-in-crime.

"And?"

"W-why?" Still, the librarian brat held his ground, his teeth clenched as he settled his book onto the desk. There was a brief flicker of doubt in his eyes, the kid turning his gaze away from Roman for a split second before forcing himself back to confront the crook. Since the kid in question looked young enough to be Recette's age, it really was an admirable attempt.

"Because I didn't _need_ it." But he wasn't going to cut the kid any slack either, and Roman's gaze remained fixed on the little green-haired kid, complete disinterest in his eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"N-...No." The green-haired kid's eyes fell back to the desk, his voice growing a bit quieter as he stared down at his fallen book. Which... was probably the sort of reaction you'd expect when a crook stares down a kid half his size. The silence that followed was exhausting. The criminal let out an tired sigh, finally breaking his half-hearted glare at the tiny librarian as he rolled his eyes.

"Look, kid, that was just some introduction stuff. I stayed until I got gist of it, alright?" Was it really that big of a deal? Apparently, to an insecure brat put in charge of a library, it was. Which was a problem, since that meant that Roman wasn't going to get any useful information, either. And as much as he would've liked to just throttle the brat, he couldn't; since the Adventurer's Guild had a damned monopoly on magical dungeon access, he'd have to play nice. So, it was time for him to put on his public speaker hat.

"Nothing against you, alright? I'm sure you know your stuff, considering they let you teach a bunch of ignorant morons without batting an eye." Roman's voice was quiet as he began improvising some false semblance of _sincerity_ , holding back the urge to retch as he spoke. Which was surprisingly easy, giving him the opportunity to look for something else to use for the brat's ego. When the silly robes and the silly stick came into view, Roman knew what his next words were.

"I mean, c'mon kid. You look like you know your stuff, especially about magic. I of all people can recognize that. And they didn't put you in charge of the library for nothing, right? So, how about it?"

Was this what a reassuring smile looked like? Roman wasn't sure, but considering how much the kid perked up at his words, he must've been doing something right. There was a slight pause, before the librarian wizard kid cleared his throat, pushing his book aside as he looked up at Roman once more. "R-right! So... Uh. What sort of book were you looking for?"

* * *

Surprisingly enough, the kid was a good librarian. Roman even respected how organized he was, and how seriously the brat took his job. As a result, it didn't take long for him to come up with a list of relevant books, and a few minutes was all the crook needed to find all the relevant books on the matter.

The problem was, there were hardly any books at all. At best, there were a few introductory texts that served to underline the concept, before dedicating countless pages to how magic was useful. Not only that, but it turned out that the most advanced book this library had was written by the brat himself, and while the kid was practically beaming when he asked for the book, Roman honestly didn't know how useful it'd be.

Turns out, Magic wasn't exactly a science here, either.

A quiet 'thump' filled the air as Roman Torchwick sat himself down, his pile of books echoing through the otherwise silent library as he settled into the cushioned seat. At least the chairs were nice? And the table was sturdy. Not like that'd help out that much when it came to figuring out another world's magic, but comfort was always appreciated.

"'Element-ary Principals and Theories'. Really? _Really_?" Roman read the title of the topmost book, a migraine already forming as he let out a tired sigh. Fortunately, that particular book was the only one that'd been written with intent to annoy, as the rest of the documents had more sensible names. "Let's see... 'Power Crystals in Nature', 'The Obsidian Ruins', 'The Dungeon Phenomenon'... Huh."

The titles still sounded as weird as they looked, but at the very least, he was thankful that none of the remaining books carried puns to their names. Still, what worried the crook was the fact that everything seemed to relate to the _dungeons_ in some way. Which was weird, since a great deal of the books relating to the dungeon considered the entire field science. Heck, he wasn't sure how some of these things related to the Magic, but considering he had been recommended these books by the only damned magician he'd seen in the entire guild, Roman was hesitant to dismiss them.

Might as well get comfortable... If he's going to read a dungeon book, then it'd probably make sense for him to read a book on a dungeon he could actually access. Not that he could remember any of their silly names off-hand. And unfortunately, he wasn't about to walk to the other side of the complex just to figure out the name of some obscure maybe-magical place.

"The Amber Garden... Huh. Interesting name." Roman's eyes narrowed as he read the title. It... certainly _was_ an interesting name, but he wasn't quite sure why. There wasn't anything particularly creative about it, nor could he figure out a reason to use it over anything else, considering how little the front cover resembled a garden. And as he began flipping through the pages, no suitable answer came.

Instead, he had to content himself with pages upon pages that dedicated themselves to explaining the dungeon's environments and monsters. Sure, some people might've found it interesting how the dungeon was apparently schizophrenic, dragging adventurers from forest to castle ruins to more forests. At least the dungeon was creative, since it apparently threw in all sorts of monsters that matched these environments as well.

And maybe there was some sort of obscure significance to the dungeon itself; what sane person would dedicate an entire section to the whole volcano motif, before immediately shifting to an island archipelago, only to end with a treetop? Then again, the dungeon was no person, so maybe there simply wasn't any logic. Just... baseless extravagance. Really, all of these environments sounded pointlessly extravagant, and the book certainly spared no flowerly language to describe them.

Which was why Roman frowned. This was not what he was looking for.

"Is... Everything okay?"

The crook looked up from his seat to see the kid librarian from earlier, a concerned expression on the brat's face. What was he doing here? Roman blinked at the kid's sudden intrusion as his eyes turned to the rest of the library, only to find that, as usual, the place was nearly empty. A good a reason as any, he supposed, but there was no harm in humouring the brat.

"Yeah, sure. But aren't you supposed to be working, kid?"

"Are you sure? It looks like you're having some trouble. Fortunately for you, I'm willing to lend my assistance." The brat's lax tone was a far cry from earlier, and Roman mentally groaned as he watched the kid sit himself down. Was one pep talk really all the brat needed? Turns out, it was, since the librarian no longer seemed unnerved by his presence. "A-and it's fine! Not that many people visit the library at this time, so I can afford a break. If someone needs me, they can ring the bell at the front desk."

Part of him wanted to mention that there was no bell at the front desk, but that snarky part quickly gave way to the more pragmatic side of Roman Torchwick's psyche. Again, this brat was the only magician type person he'd seen, and if he was good enough to publish a book, it meant that his skills were at least genuine.

Or that this world's standards were terrible.

Either way, the kid was still a resource, and there was absolutely no reason for Torchwick not to use him. Roman's eyes settled on his pile of books, catching sight of the librarian's name before turning back to the brat in question. With a deliberately contemplative look in his face, the suited criminal appraised the child, leaving just enough silence in the air to make it seem like he was actually debating some obscure internal problem.

"Hmm... You know what? Why not? Welcome aboard, Caillou." The moment he 'came to his decision', the kid's face brightened considerably, rising up out of his seat. Actually, now that he thought about it, was that pretense really necessary? For some reason, this particular brat seemed committed to helping him out. As in, really committed. Honestly, it reminded him of that one pickpocket-wannabe who always clung to Cinder.

Which was weird. Why did this kid-

"Oh, thank you thank you!" Caillou, the magician brat, immediately burst into an enthusiastic mess. Which only added more questions onto Roman's plate. But before the crook could ask _why_ the kid was so energetic, the kid decided to calm himself down, an embarrassed look on the brat's as he coughed awkwardly. "Er-... I mean... Thank you, I appreciate it. I apologize for my exuberance, but I haven't seen another magician in Pensee for many years. I look forward to contributing to your studies in the area."

Oh.

Huh. Well, that's certainly a reason.


	15. Week 1: Discovery

**Week 1: Discovery**

* * *

"Is that so...?"

Once more, Roman slapped a contemplative look on his face, his expression shifting to a more serious tone as he glanced at the brat before him. Unlike his gesture earlier, however, he was genuinely considering his options, slowly weighing the benefits of actually going along with this farce.

It went without saying that Torchwick wasn't actually a magician, nor had he really shown any indication of being one, at least not to the kid... but for some reason, the kid was convinced that he was. Not only that, but the kid was even willing to help him without asking any questions, so he should just leave it alone, right?

Of course not. Things were hardly that simple. On one hand, he didn't even know if he could use the kid; No matter how he spun it, Roman was starting from the ground up. Would it really benefit him to pretend like he wasn't? He actually needed to learn the basics, and the last thing the thief wanted was to gloss over something elementary for the sake of appeasing a child's misguided fantasy of helping a proper wizard.

Not to mention that he wasn't sure how much the brat could help with in the first place. He was, what, twelve? How much insight could he really bring? That fact that the kid had published a book was a point for him, sure, but it didn't really tell him if the mage kid was a prodigy, or if this world's academic standards was just terrible. Actually, now that he thought about it, it was probably the latter.

The fact that the kid had somehow mistaken him as a wizard was reason enough to assume that magic users didn't visit, which was enough to tell Roman that the academic community as a whole was probably terrible. Why else would they avoid a place as important as Pensee? Roman had to stop himself from frowning at that thought. He was still pretending to be considering something, after all.

Yes. Pensee. Important.

As deluded as that might sound, Roman could tell that this place was significant. Sure, the town itself was completely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things—the Adventurer's Guild was barely active, and the Merchant's Guild here was a minor branch at best—but all that meant was that the region here had some significance. Why else would Terme Finance bother sending something as rare as a fairy, just to sort out some drunk man's debt?

"Is... Is everything alright, sir?"

Roman's eyes narrowed as he heard the brat's voice, his gaze pulling away from empty air as he settled his focus onto his pile of books. Yeah... If you ignore everything else, then the only thing important enough to be worth exploiting would be those dungeons, right? A smile formed on the thief's face, as he shifted his gaze back to Caillou.

"Of course, don't mind me. In fact, I should thank you." Roman's expression lightened, no longer the piercing frown he had worn prior, as he gave the kid a rueful smile. One tinged with just a bit of truth.

"T-thank me!? Y-you're welcome, sir! But... W-whatever for?" Honestly, the kid's reactions were almost amusing. Part of Roman's mind wanted to say that the brat was like a puppy or something, but that'd be an unfair comparison; the fools in White Fang were never this expressive, nor were they so willing to help. Or maybe that just meant that the White Fang failed as animals as well as terrorists? After all, his new assistant was stumbling over himself trying to hide his childish joy over having contributed in some way, while-

You know what? Never mind. Roman settled his gaze on the kid, giving his best not-business smile.

"Well, if you hadn't approached me, I would've never considered how the dungeons in the area would influence my studies, and that made me think of a great deal of things I hadn't thought of before." That was technically true. And that meant that Roman had all the pieces he required to look genuine. So he gave a genuine word of thanks to the little magician brat. "Really, thank you. With this, I know exactly what my next step is."

"O-oh. In that case, I'm glad I could help!" The green-haired magician honestly looked like a kid in a candy store, which surprised Roman. He didn't think the surly little brat could smile like that, but there you go. Did the kid really react that way to simplistic praise? It's like his parents never thanked him or something... Which would partially explain his aloof attitude during the lecture the other day, as well as his general lack of social skills.

"Erm, I-I mean... be of assistance in your endeavours?" Case in point.

Roman paused, his eyes falling to the kid as he raised an eyebrow. He really hoped that it wasn't the case, but if so... First Recette, now this kid? Does everyone in this world have parental issues? The crook resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this new revelation; perhaps he's just wrong and Caillou just enjoys it when people praise him rather than ignore him. Or maybe he really was another kid who had his father drop a half-million debt on his doorstep. Who knows?

Either way, it didn't matter. Torchwick still had a task he needed to do. So, he softened his expression, a surprisingly easy gesture as he turned to Caillou. "Sure, kid. However you want to say it, you really helped me out. Say, you have any of your old magic study material lying around?"

"Sure?" That caused the kid's expression to change, shifting to one of curious confusion as he stared up at the thief. "I think I have them in storage somewhere, but... Why do you need them?"

Ah, yes, the first problem he'll face. Why did a veteran wizard like him need something as simplistic as a child's homework? Fortunately, his answer was something he had used many times in the past, when recruiting other people for less scrupulous tasks. His slipped into a familiar rhythm as he spoke the words, his motions completely natural as he gave a casual wave of his hand. "You know how it is. Need to see what sort of experience you have, see what I'm dealing with and all that. You don't mind, do you?"

"O-of course not, sir! I'll go get them immediately, mister..." Caillou froze, another amusing sight. Of course the kid didn't know what to call him; Roman never actually introduced himself. Still, he didn't want to embarrass the boy so soon after he had felt some accomplishment, so the thief magnanimously gave the kid an exit.

"Torchwick. Roman Torchwick. Pleased to meet you." Roman smiled, only to falter when he noticed something twitch from the corner of his eye. Did he accidentally wake up one of the sleeping adventurers? A quick glance seemed to confirm that, as he saw the person in the stupidly large cloak stir, but that thought quickly gave way to something more worrying as the kid began swaying nervously.

Why did Caillou suddenly look so much less enthused? "Did you say... R-Roman?"

"Yep." The thief let his hand fall to his side, turning his body to fully face the brat, staring down once again. It didn't take a genius to notice that the kid recognized his name, which only brought up a plethora of questions. Questions that he was certain he wouldn't like the answers to. "Is there a problem?"

"As in..."

There was a tentative pause, as Caillou nervously glanced about the library, fidgeting with his staff for a few short moments, only to look back up at the thief. If there was any doubt that the brat was something other than a nervous, easily spooked child, it was now dispelled. He genuinely looked afraid, and Roman honestly couldn't understand _why_. Which wasn't good. The thief shifted his posture, changing his balance a bit, a completely innocuous gesture that gave him a far better position to use his weapon as he rested against his cane.

"... the Roman of 'Recettear, and Roman Too?'"

 **THUNK**.

He was no longer resting against his cane. Really, he wasn't resting against anything but the floor at this point, and Roman couldn't tell whether his newly acquired headache was worse than his newly acquired ... headache. At least it didn't hurt too much when he fell over _in disbelief_. Why the hell does the kid know that name? He wanted to shout it, but it wasn't professional to swear at children, so Roman could only hope that his questioning gaze was enough to convey his unspoken words. Or his annoyance. Preferably both.

"I-I-I..." It certainly did something, as the kid seemed to immediately go into some sort of panic, frantically looking around as he clutched his staff. The outburst only lasted for a few short seconds, however, as Caillou made the perfect transition from nervous wreck to nervous, apologetic wreck. "I'm sorry!"

Which explained absolutely nothing. A fact that Roman made abundantly clear as he rose to his feet again, brushing off his suit before sending the kid a deadpan stare. "What are you even talking ab-"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to disrespect your establishment! But it wasn't really my fault either! I didn't think the child you had working at the cashier was telling the truth when she said she was actually working their, and I didn't think that she was telling the truth when she said that she actually owned it with a person named Roman and I thought it was all just an excuse of a joke of a lie and I didn't realize that you were actually real and an arcane researcher for a super important company and I'm so sorry I'll just leave you alone now sorry bye!"

He... what... huh?

Roman blinked, trying to process what the kid had said. It was a bit difficult, since Caillou had literally spewed out that line of nonsense over the span of two seconds, which in itself made no sense. By the time the thief actually deciphered what had been said, the kid had long since ran off, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and shame in his wake. And a few collapsed bookshelves, too.

At least he wasn't the only one left confused. That sudden outburst had woken up the rest of these lazy adventurers, bleary eyed and mindless as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The criminal, for his part, simply chose to accept it. It... was odd, to be sure, but it wasn't the weirdest thing he had experienced this week. So, rather than dwell on it any further, Roman chose to return to his seat, settling himself down as he cracked open his first book. Just to see if he could actually learn something magic-related today.

* * *

 _"Of course, the answer was no."_ Roman sighed as he stepped out of the Adventurer's Guild.

Surprising absolutely no one, the textbooks there were almost completely useless. For some reason, the regulatory body in charge of this world's education systems didn't believe in documentation or standards, so the few books of magic he had actually managed to pick up were useless pieces of flowery drivel. Just as useless were the books on adventurer abilities, as they went into great lengths of describing the 'what', while choosing to ignore the 'how' and 'why' behind the phenomenon.

Honestly, the most useful books he had were the ones penned by the still-absent brat. The dungeon studies books, at the very least, had a _damned table of contents_ , and spent far more time on useful observations than it did on pointless conjecture. And the mini-encyclopedia on local herbs was actually pretty useful, if he ever decided to go into another line of work. But yeah, he was now more of an expert on the local dungeons' environments and random flowers than he was a beginner on magic. Magic that, he reminded himself, children could somehow use.

In the end, Roman still had managed to leave with five useful books. The librarian at the front desk, the one that replaced the brat from earlier, had suggested a few more advanced books for him to read over. As in, really advanced. Did he really look like someone who could use those? He took them all the same, of course, since he needed whatever resources he could get.

Not only that, but Roman had spent _the entire day_ at the library; The last thing he wanted to do was return empty handed. He needed some excuse to explain why he had ditched that stupid store and the-

"Ooh! Hey! It's Roman! Hey Roman!"

Well, speak of the devil. The classy criminal let out an exhausted sigh as he slipped his book back into his pouch, before turning to the source of the voice. There was absolutely no mistaking who it was, and the man prepared himself as he turned to face the fast-approaching ball of sugar. "Hello brat. Shouldn't you be minding the shop?"

That stopped the girl in her tracks. Well, that and the fact that a few more steps would've meant she'd hit the wall, but Roman was fairly certain that that didn't really factor into the girl's actions. Recette, for the most part, ignored the stonework entirely, as she threw a nervous glance up to him.

"Y-Yeah..." And a nervous chuckle. Did he really want to know where this was going? Upon further inspection, Roman had noticed that the girl was alone, wandering the streets as she carried a burgeoning leather bag and... was that a can of mace? They sell that? "But Tear said that I should probably go find you."

That struck Roman as weird. He sincerely doubted that the fairy let the brat wander unless something very important came up. Maybe she was finally starting to do whatever it was she had been sent to do? That was the only logical thing he cou-

"I dunno why, though! I was teaching Ruby how to work the shop and everything!"

Welp.

He still stood by his statement, because the thought of Recette somehow teaching Red anything would not be logical in any way, shape, or form. Still, Roman had to hold back the urge to strike _something_ , and willed himself to calm down. It only took a few seconds this time, far better than before, but considering how much practice he's been getting lately, the crook wasn't actually sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Alright. Well, I suppose I'll have to thank Tear later."

It was a rare admission, and one that Roman only partially regretted speaking. Still, the fairy did divert a crisis, so there was no harm in mentioning it, even in the presence of someone like Recette. So, as he pocketed his books and took out his cane, Roman waited for the kid's inevitable cheer or shout or whathaveyou.

"...Bwuh?"

Okay, that's just insulting. Was the idea of him being civil really that foreign of a concept? He had been on his best behaviour for the entire week so far! He threw a curious glance at the kid, eyebrow raised as he shook his head. "What do you mean 'Bwuh'?"

"It's just... You've never called Tear by her name before! It's a momeno-... Momenti-... A big occasion!"

Part of him wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or just confused, but that was a small part of his being. The rest of him just wanted to drop this entire act and walk away, or for the brat to suddenly go away. Of course, that wasn't going to happen, since that'd be enough for him to break his contract.

A contract that was, for all intents and purposes, growing obsolete. Roman narrowed his eyes, ignoring the rest of the blathering that came from Recette's mouth.

Besides Melodious Cudgel, the Terme Finance company didn't actually have anything to lord over his head. And sure, it would be really nice if he actually got that back, but he was still certain that those idiots wouldn't know the first thing about his cane, let alone the dust within. Even if they did, they'd probably blow themselves up, solving his biggest problem all by themselves.

That'd just leave him with studying this place's magic, absorbing whatever power the dungeon held, then finding a way back to Remnant to... To...

Roman frowned. To what? Rebuild his empire? The fact that Cinder had pulled it all out from under his feet wasn't lost on him, and with the effort he'd have spend on rebuilding new contracts, he didn't really have a reason to stay in Vale. And that's just assuming Cinder hadn't already gone through with the plan while he had been incarcerated. Surely they would've heard of his disappearance by now, and adjusted.

The biggest question on his mind was whether or not Neo was okay. Sure, she was a strong girl, and if his memory wasn't lying to him, it's only been a week since his incarceration. Still... A lot could happen in a week. Who knows if Cinder had some other annoying plan tucked away, ready to burn more things for her plan of whatever.

Yeah, no.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he simply didn't have the time to play babysitter... Even if it was to someone like Recette. Sure, the kid's sob story was great and all, but it wasn't like he could afford to care for every little person under the sun. If he did something as foolish as that, he'd run himself ragged and grey. Assuming he didn't get backstabbed first. Or just wither and die from the stress of it all. Or who knows what else.

But that's life, isn't it? Remnant, at the very least... Which was why he had to take advantage of what little time he had away from that damned place, and make sure he was ready to kick life's face in when he got back. Because, even if he couldn't care for everyone, he could still do _something_.

Right?

"...Roman? Are you okay?"

Oops. Right, the brat was still here. Rolling his eyes, the thief fixed his posture, stretching himself out a bit as he turned to face the kid proper. "Of course I am, Recette. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... You look hurt." The girl's voice was quiet as she turned to face him, her usual smile completely absent as she stared back up at him. She almost strained to look him in the eyes, and the thief was reminded of how tiny the girl really was. Huh. Kids do pull off the best sad-puppy expressions. "A-and you just used my name, rather than brat or kid or or..."

Especially when they're genuine. He might as well try to calm her down. "Look kid, I'm fine. All I did today was go to the library. And if you're talking about my cane, you know that I just keep it for show."

"Not that!" Recette was louder this time, more conviction in her tone as she continued looking at him. "Not like... ouchie hurt, but... The same hurt that Tear gets whenever she thinks I'm asleep. She never says anything about it, and I don't know if she knows if I know. Or if she does know that I know, but doesn't know that I know that she knows! Or-"

With one swift motion, Roman planted his hand on Recette's hair, ruffling her scatterbrained head.

"Blargh!" Recette squeaked. He wasn't sure how she had managed to go from a line of confused, worried words to something that couldn't be squeaked, but she had squeaked it. Which was far better than whatever it was she was ranting about earlier.

What?

He had to put a stop to that. It was getting outrageous! And besides, he was certain that he had kept his composure, so she couldn't actually have seen anything, right? Not that there was even anything to see, since he was just plotting as usual! So, in conclusion, the kid was suffering some sort of diabetic stroke, and was seeing things that weren't there, which meant that he had to intervene. Really, he was just being a good citizen.

And as a good citizen, he had to clarify this before it went out of hand.

"Alright, alright. Listen up, brat." Roman pulled his hand away, closing his eyes dismissively as he began explaining what had _actually_ occurred. Not that weird misconception that the twelve-year-old deluded sugar-vaccuum thought she had seen. "First things first: what you saw wasn't me hurting. At least, not meaningfully. I just tried one of those stupid Walnut breads that you enjoy eating so much, and the taste didn't agree with me."

He didn't even need to look at her to see that she wasn't convinced, but that didn't matter. He was out one walnut bread, courtesy of that Louie kid, which meant that she couldn't prove otherwise.

"Second of all, I used your name because I am contractually obliged to acknowledge you once a day." Roman spoke that with a straight face, nodding mostly to himself as his voice continued. See, the funny part is, that actually wasn't a lie. His contract did say that he had to formally acknowledge Recette as the debtor for this job, and that he was supposed to assist Tear's efforts with retrieving the debt. So, obviously, referring to her by name counts as formally acknowledging her. "You can even ask Tear about that."

"Does the contract thingy also say you need to call Tear by her name?"

"Sure, whatever". Leave it to Recette to interrupt when he's explaining things. And he was most definitely explaining things, not excusing them away, so don't you get any ideas!

Actually, speaking of ideas... that last bit that the kid mentioned could be useful. He had never seen the fairy brood before, so if what Recette said was accurate, the fairy might be experiencing some turmoil or stress. If it gets worse, he could use it to his advantage... Maybe slip some things from the shop, or sneak out without her throwing as annoying of a fit.

Yeah. You know what? That's not a bad idea. At the very least, more information isn't necessarily a bad thing. Nodding to himself, the crook turned back to face Recette. Heck, he didn't even need to come up with a terrible excuse, either. He could just continue using his cover of being an employee for now.

"Most importantly... If you ever see Tear like that again, I want you to let me know, okay?" Roman put on the most sincere expression he could muster, forcing himself not to retch as he gave the kid a look of worry. "I may not act it, but Tear's still an... associate of mine, so I need to know if she's getting stressed. Can you do that for me, kid?"

He stared Recette for a few more moments, his face slowly shifting from false worry to actual worry. Was the kid okay? She wasn't doing anything except staring at him, her pout slowly shifting to, if he's perfectly honest, an unnervingly wide grin. Silence hung in the air for a few moments longer, before Recette shattered it in perfect, childish form.

"Yayifications! You really do care!"

Face, meet palm. Was this misunderstanding really better than the last? He just... didn't care anymore.

"Sure, whatever. Let's just head back to the shop, alright? Need to drop off these books and report back before Red kills Thumbelina or something."

Thankfully, that was enough to get Recette to stop, and her previous expression of dopey joy changed into one of misguided worry.

"Wait... What!?"


	16. Week 1: Repayment

**Week 1: Repayment**

* * *

As he approached the entrance to the structure, Roman couldn't help but feel a bit of doubt towards his latest decision. Which was surprising, since Roman wasn't usually a man who doubted his actions.

Sure, there were plenty of times where he'd doubt the decisions of _others_ , since the people he often worked with couldn't be trusted to understand basic concepts like 'sense' or 'long-term feasibility'. And, he'd admit, there were times where he'd regret a decision because of unexpected circumstances rendering his plans moot, but those times didn't really count. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the number of instances he had actually second-guessed himself few and far in between.

And this particular incident wasn't necessarily _that_ clear cut. So, perhaps he wasn't doubting his latest decision, but merely considering the results?

Yeah. Now that he thought about it, he was perfectly content with the decision itself. There was no doubt he'd enjoy watching it come to fruition, nor was there any question that he'd arrange something similar again in a heartbeat. Really, it was the cost of the aftermath that had given him some pause. Was he truly ready to accept the consequences of his actions?

Of course he was.

Roman turned to his partner in crime, his motion slow and deliberate as he slowly appraised the other person. Rarely did he have the chance to work with someone so committed to their decision; the closest he could think of were the zealots of White Fang, but even their misguided determination paled in comparison to the person before him. Allowing himself a single, deep breath, the crook finally spoke out, his voice barely audible as he appraised her expression. "... Ready, kid?"

His only response was a nod, completely silent and completely resolved, prepared to see everything through to the end.

"Good." Without another word, the criminal unlocked the door, a single motion that no one heard, let alone saw, as he deftly opened the way forward. And almost immediately, all hell broke loose.

Roman smiled.

" **Rubypleasedon'tkillTear!** "

The brat was off like a damned missile, kicking herself off the ground as she threw herself at Red with the energy only a child could muster. As expected, Red wasn't exactly prepared for the sudden intrusion, and whatever task she was doing had been quickly replaced by a swift transition to the hardwood floor, marked by the sound of body hitting wood. He doubted that Recette was ready for the sudden stop either, judging by the second impact and cry that followed. At the end of it all was two brats, sprawled along the shop floor, twitching and groaning in pain.

To her credit, Recette recovered quickly, hopping up to her feet as she staggered for a few steps, only to turn her attention to a shelf that carried one of the more vibrant item displays. Her hands shot up as she attempted to shield her fellow moron from the blue prop, shutting her eyes as she stood defiantly. "And Tear! Please don't curse Ruby to be a broccoli princess! It's the worst kind of princess!"

Silence hung in the air for a few short moments, as the tiny fairy and little reaper stared at Recette with utter confusion.

"Broccoli... Princess?" Red blinked, slowly turning her gaze to the blue fairy that floated by the shop counter, nowhere near the two fallen children. Red's voice was hesitant as she slowly backed away, which in itself was mildly entertaining to watch, since the Beacon prodigy made no effort to pick herself off the floor first. "You can do that?"

"I don't-... You just-... What?"

But really, the most amusing thing about the entire event was the fact that Tinkerbell had been caught so flustered, her protests had associated hand gestures. There was just _something_ about watching a prim and proper fairy flail about in the air, shouting broken half-sentences at a brat, that Roman found amusing. Probably all of it, really.

Of course, his amusement fell slightly when said fairy turned her attention to him, but the classy criminal took it into stride. He had expected Recette to bowl over something expensive, so the glare that the floating nightlight shot at him wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been.

"And you! What sort of nonsense have you been telling her?"

Not to say it wasn't still bad. The fairy was about as pissed as he could expect from her, and tear's voice was surprisingly loud for someone so tiny. Partially to put on a show, and partially to ease his growing headache, Roman deliberately brought a hand up to his temple, visibly wincing at her shrill voice. "Oh, don't even _start_ with that."

Of course, Tear wasn't amused.

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you over that incessant buzzing noise. I think a bug got in or something." The crook smiled nonchalantly as he stepped through the shop displays, making no effort to hide his destination as he made his way to the back door. And as expected of the tiny overseer, she tried to stop him in his tracks, an angry stare plastered on her face as she floated up in front of him.

Roman stopped. Not because she actually blocked the way—she was a foot tall, for god's sake—but because he wanted to humour her. That, and she wasn't lashing out as comically as he expected. Besides her initial befuddlement, the fairy's expression had actually shifted to a more serious tone. Raising a single brow, the thief leaned back against one of the shop counters, eyes on the fairy as he waited for her to speak.

"We do not have time for this nonsense." Tear's voice was low as she threw him a glance, before shifting her attention back to the rest of the shop. "Do you understand what position we're in?"

Position? What was she talking about?

"Of course you don't. You've been off gallivanting around town, pursuing whatever it is that catches your fancy while I've been stuck here trying to _salvage this mess_." Tear flew into Roman's vision again, partially blocking his view as she focused her steely gaze on him. To accentuate her point, the fairy gestured to the shop itself, floating out of the way to allow the thief a clear view of the facility.

And that's when Roman had realized that the place was completely devoid of customers. As well as any semblance of order. Most of the counters were empty, but the few that weren't were filled with meaningless junk or nonsensical trinkets. There was no order to the shop layout, and more than a few display stands had other display stands stacked on top of them. There was even a table that had been suspended in the middle of the room, held by nothing but a single length of rope and, what he assumed, a mixture of wishes and luck.

"What do you suppose a customer's first thoughts are when they walk into this mess?!"

Curious, Roman slowly approached said table, examining it from all sides as he casually poked at it with his cane. His confusion only deepened when the haphazard structure held firm, not shifting in the slightest. "Fairy magic?"

"Merde." As a side note, the sound of a fairy-sized facepalm was an endearing sound. He'd have to record it for his Scroll one of these days. "I had hoped, at the very least, you would've appreciated how precarious our situation was."

"Wait, what?" That little admission was enough to give the thief some pause. There were few things he could think of, besides himself of course, that'd worry the tiny fairy to this degree. "What do you mean by 'precarious'?"

"In case you've forgotten, we were assigned to Miss Lemongrass so that she could repay her family's debts to the Terme Finance company in place of her father." With some of her fairy magic, the tiny woman brought up an oversized clipboard, with the terms of Recette's entire debt plainly displayed on the firm surface. What caught his eye, however, wasn't the document itself, but one particular spot that had been circled and underlined. A date.

Today.

"Is it really...?"

"Yes, Mr. Torchwick. As you can see from the document accepted by both parties, Recette Lemongrass has until the end of today to submit her first payment for her father's debt." Tear's voice was silent as she stared at the suited criminal, before shifting her gaze to the two children. The fairy's face softened a bit when her vision fell on Recette, then fell away entirely when she saw the mortified expression on Red's face. With a heavy sigh, Tear set the clipboard down, before turning to face the Beacon prodigy proper. "And yes, Miss Rose. That was why I was being so... insistent on your behaviour today."

"I... I didn't realize it was that bad." Red's voice was subdued, a far cry from the usual boisterous nature that Roman had come to expect from the little annoyance. "Why didn't you let me? I would've-"

"In all likelihood, Miss Rose, You would've panicked and exacerbated the situation."

Ouch. Even Roman found that a bit harsh. Well, blunt at the very least. Personally, he would've used a much larger vocabulary to explain Red's incompetence. Still, the effects of her words were felt by both fairy and reaper, as the two's expressions grew somber. "I-I mean no offense by that. What I meant to say was that, based on what I've learned from our interactions... it would've influenced your decisions far more negatively if I had informed you of our circumstance."

Red's shoulders sagged, her expression sink further as her gaze fell to the floor, without uttering a single protest. At least she was mature enough to recognize her failings? Not that it was Roman's concern. No, there was something for more pressing that the man needed to find out. The thief's eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to the document, swiping the clipboard from the counter as he slowly began reading through the document's fine print.

"H-how much does she owe?" The huntress-wannabe squeaked out the question, her voice silent as she turned to face Roman. Or Tear? He couldn't tell from his position, and he was too busy to answer her questions at the moment.

"... Miss Lemongrass must submit a sum of thirty thousand pix for her first payment."

Roman's eyes widened as he heard Tear recount the amount, instantly snapping away from the document as he settled his gaze on the fairy. Wasn't it just ten? But before he could voice his confusion, the fairy turned back to him, her face downcast.

"The change came through three days ago. I had intended to inform you immediately, but Recette had insisted we remained quiet on the issue." He gave the fairy an odd look, brow raised as he stared at her incredulously. It didn't take long for the woman to answer his unspoken question. "... We are merely advisors for her; Recette is the one who ultimately makes the decisions. The only reason I have my duties in the first place was because she agreed to delegate to me."

"Okay... But why exactly did our little merchant girl want to keep this information to herself?" He couldn't even comprehend why she had bothered to hide something so damned important. Didn't she realize how damned important this was for her? His vision shifted to Recette this time, but any irritation he might've had faltered when she saw the simple expression on her face.

"Because I didn't want to worry you."

Her voice was unexpectedly firm. The child said the words with a straight face, not backing away as her wide eyes staredup at Roman, her body betraying no hint of regret. And Roman had no appropriate response. All he could do was to stand in silence and stare back, his worried green eyes fixed on with Recette's resolute brown eyes. "... After being lost for so long, you finally found your friend. I didn't want to worry you two about it."

Lost for so long...?

Roman was the first to look away. Suddenly, that display table seemed far more interesting, and far more sensible than what he had just heard. The crook had so many questions, after all, and absolutely no way to answer them. How much did she know? Why did she think that he and Red were friends—heck, she saw was there when they first met up again, right? And even knowing all that, why did she stay quiet when the _eviction_ was the only thing she'd get out of it?

He didn't even need to ask. Recette continued speaking, her voice falling to a softer tone.

"I know what it was like to be alone. I was alone too, but at least I had somewhere to stay. Tear said you didn't even have that."

He resisted the urge to shoot a glare at the fairy. He didn't know why it was a glare of all things, either. Perhaps he was irritated that she had been running her mouth? Does employee confidentiality mean nothing in this world? Then again, he might've just been angry that she forgot to mention that he was an adult, whereas the brat was _twelve year old brat_. Different contexts, damnit.

In spite of himself, he couldn't hold onto the irritation for long, as Recette's voice came up again.

"But when you two appeared that day, when you came to look at everything and collect the debt thing... It was the best day of my life." The worst part was, she somehow believed it. Roman could see it in her eyes that she believed every single thing she was spouting. "I know you two were just doing your jobs, and I was a bit scared when Tear mentioned the debt. But when Tear said that you two were going to help me along with it, and when you said that I was stuck with you two..."

There was a pause. Roman turned to face Recette once more, only to find that she had the same stance as she did before, not relenting in the slightest as she continued staring at him.

"I was happy. Because I wasn't alone anymore."

Good for her. And Roman couldn't even frown at that thought; he was legitimately unsure if he was being sarcastic or genuine with it, either, which caused no small amount of turmoil in his mind. He tried to push the thoughts away, tried to drag them into a corner to beat them down, but... Roman stopped. Instead, he slipped into a neutral mask, his face betraying nothing as he stared back at the kid.

"And for weeks, I wasn't alone. Tear helped me turn the old house into the shop, and you helped me put away everything. You even told me how awesome of a name Recettearoman was."

He distinctly remembered something completely different, as his mind flashed back to the memories of him throwing that sign away. He outright helped her make a new one, just so that embarrassment wouldn't grace the light of day. It didn't matter that it had taken the entire day, either.

"But that wasn't all. I wasn't alone, and Tear was happier... But I didn't think you were completely happy. You kept being nice and stuff, and you always helped out Tear and me, but whenever you were by yourself, you always had that look on your face."

Roman slowly digested her words. He didn't know why; they were just parts of a generic sob story, one you could stumble on anywhere. He of all people knew that. Yet, he kept his attention focused on the child, trying not to betray any sort of emotion as he-

"Yeah... That look." Not once throughout this conversation did Recette actually turn away from him. Yet, this was the first time that Roman had noticed the little girl staring directly at him. "It's just like the smiles I used give to people, before I met you two. And... after meeting you two... I didn't need it anymore."

The thief stared at the child. And unlike before, where he could look her in the eye, he had noticed that he couldn't turn away. Still, he held on, clinging to his neutral expression, not even noticing as he gripped his cane a little tighter.

"But... But you still do. So that's why, when you had finally found your friend, I didn't want to worry you about something like this. You and Tear already helped me so much, this was the least I could do."

He had been watching her the entire time. So when had she gotten so close? The merchant kid stood before him, staring up at him with wide-eyed conviction, with that damned bleeding idealism that seemed to plague all brats everywhere. And he could do nothing but stare back.

"Even if I couldn't pay my dad's debt, I wanted you all to know how thankful I was for meeting you. How thankful I was that you all helped me. That's why I didn't want Tear to tell you, to interrupt you two."

Something soft wrapped around his waist. Something tiny buried itself against his stomach. And no amount of mental justifications or halfhearted rationalizations could change the fact that Recette Lemongrass had just hugged Roman Torchwick.

"Because I wanted to pay you back. For everything you've done for me."

Torchwick dropped his cane. What other reaction was he supposed to have? This feeling was completely new to him. When was the last time anyone had been... thankful for his actions? And try as he might, he could not dismiss it. Because, no matter what else he may tell himself, this feeling _wasn't_ new to him. There was a time, one that he had hoped to forget, where it had actually been... familiar to him.

And just as intimate as that feeling was, one other sensation lingered in his chest. One inexorably tied to feelings of gratitude and thankfulness and whatever else he had once pushed out of his mind.

Guilt.

He wanted to forget it. He _needed_ to forget it. The man wrenched his attention away from the kid, turning to the fairy who had been floating silent for so _damn long_. Torchwick didn't trust himself to speak yet, instead pointing to the clipboard that had laid forgotten and discarded. Tinkerbell wore a blank look for a moment, but soon realized what he was asking of her, and eventually floated the clipboard over to him.

He glanced at the document once more, staring at the amount that had already been repaid, and the amount that remained. His eyes shifted down to the kid who was still attached to his waist, a stupid idiotic brat who was completely content with how things had turned out. Roman closed his eyes, completely silent as he took in a single, deep breath.

And then, the criminal returned the clipboard, the item a bit heavier than it was before as he set it down on the counter-top, with a single leather pouch propped prominently on the collection form. For some reason, the ignorant little child before him had honestly thought he had done something worthy of thanks. And just like a distant little memory, she had been dead set on throwing her life away to fulfill that misunderstanding.

Don't read into his actions too much. Roman Torchwick was many things, sure, but he was also a businessman.

All he was doing was making sure that this little transaction, this little debt she had deluded herself into fulfilling, had been legitimate.


	17. Week 2: Competition

**Week 2: Competition**

* * *

Roman Torchwick was a patient man. After all, when you're the one in charge of overseeing the countless criminal operations in a place like Vale, you had no choice but to be patient. Whether it was due to the moronic grunt who couldn't tell right from left, or an annoyingly outspoken animal from the local circus, the classy criminal had learnt that his line of work required a great deal of tolerance. And that was just when he had to deal with the idiots; oftentimes, his business associates were so damned infuriating, it was a wonder he hadn't died of stressed-induced ulcers or something.

But, with that said, Roman's patience still had a limit. And unfortunately for his sanity, he had just about reached his limit.

The man released an irritated sigh as he pulled his attention away from the counter. He had honestly hoped to have gotten some work done at this point. For some reason, his most recent actions had given him a position of trust when it came to Tinkerbell, and she had the hilariously short-sighted idea of allowing him to manage their finances and deal with the first shift of the shop. In exchange for the 'work', he had actually been given free reign over how he conducted himself during the afternoon and evening, unless something pertinent came up.

It was an amusing mistake on her part, given how much time the thief would have to himself, and he still couldn't get over the fact that his personal plots had been legitimized. With that said, he still had to maintain his agreement in order to enjoy the free reign, and Roman had been in the middle of examining the latest sales data when he had been interrupted by the source of his current irritation.

Not directly, of course. Oh no, it wasn't that easy at all.

See, after the events of last night, after that unintuitive payment process had been submitted, the criminal had thought that he that would've been under less scrutiny. You know, garner some false trust or something from the idiots around him. And while Recette and Tear were more than happy to leave him to his devices, a certain Red annoyance had done the exact opposite.

"Hey, Red? Don't you have anything better to do with your time?" It was a genuine question, and Roman's voice was laced with irritation as he turned his attention to the Beacon brat.

To be fair, she was pulling her weight in some convoluted way, as the huntress-wannabe had made it her personal mission to organize the shop. And throughout the entire early morning, she had accomplished her duties with an eye-gougingly cheerful grin, practically humming a stupid tune as she swept the shop or reorganized a display table. But that wasn't why she tested his patience.

Red tested his patience because she kept throwing that mindless grin at him every few moments, as if he didn't notice her, only to return to her duties with renewed humming. And as annoying as it was the first few times she had done it... it had been an hour.

They were supposed to open up the shop soon, and the last thing he needed was for Red to undermine what little public image he had left. Sure, she was free to hum her head off to the first customer who walked into this store for all he cared, but he didn't even want to be in the same room as her. And since he couldn't exactly leave, he had to settle for the next best thing.

"What do you mean, Roman?"

"I mean, that's the third time you've decided to mess with that display table in the past half hour." To accentuate his words, the man threw a pointed glance at the display in question, propped up with two others to look like some sort of poorly-conceived pyramid. The moment he shooed Red away, he'd have to fix it so it didn't look outrageously stupid. "Don't you have your friends to look for or something? Why exactly are you wasting your time here, least of all smiling like that?"

He wasn't quite sure whether his words had the intended effect. The teenage headache stopped whatever it was she trying to do, sure, but his question only seemed to draw more of her attention, as she slowly turned to face him with a surprised look in her eyes. "You... You're really worried about that?"

Of course not. But this was the only way to get her to leave.

"Of course I am, Red." Roman put on the most insincerely sincere expression he could, a mask of a smile that was practically required at this point. Honestly, ever since he had gotten stuck in this obnoxious world, the crook had put on more smiles than he had ever done so in a single Remnant year. "Just because I've gotten used to this place doesn't mean you have. I'm sure you miss your little group of id-... associates."

"You mean my team?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you wanna call them."

There was a moment of silence in the shop, neither person speaking as the stupid expression on Red's face slowly faded to something else. What's this? Did his words finally sink in? Did she finally realize how utterly annoying she was, and that she should just leave now? One could only hope.

"... I knew you weren't so bad."

And, of course, Hope exists solely to be crushed. The moment she muttered those words to herself, the moment that tiny smile formed on her face, Roman reflexively brought his head down to the counter, his forehead striking against his arms as he held back a frustrated groan. He partially succeeded, as the noise he made sounded less irritated and more resigned... Not that that was any better or anything. "Damnit Red... Of all the things for you to take away from my question, why did you choose that?"

"What do you mean?" Her innocent eyes stared up at him as she turned to face him.

Roman, for his part, turned his head away from the counter-top to face the brat, a tired expression plastered on his face as he tried not to ignore her thought process. Really, he should've expected it. Ordinary subterfuge worked for ordinary people, sure, but kids who wanted to throw their lives away to be huntsmen were a special kind of stupid. It only made sense that subterfuge would work exceedingly well against them, especially when that trickery involved pretending to be good.

Or perhaps Red was just a special case? Either way, it was sort of his fault this time.

"You know what? Never mind." At this point, his only recourse was was to push the topic ahead, so that the annoying brat wouldn't dwell on it any more than she had to. "But really, didn't you say you needed to find your... team, again? Seems kind of weird to just put that aside for something as pointless as stacking boxes and sweeping floors, don't you think?"

This time, her expression fell, far less cheerful than it was before. Which was good, since that meant she wasn't thinking about pointless stuff. Not that he derived any pleasure from ruining her mood or anything, though. He was far too tired at the moment to appreciate breaking people's realizations. That's his reason, and he's sticking with it.

"But...But I don't even know where to start." The brat from beacon turned her gaze downwards, her tone far quieter now as she stared at the wooden floors. Red's voice seemed to wrestle with itself, quivering as she clutched the broom in her hand a little tighter. "...I mean, I ran into you by accident. I was just lucky that I ended up in the same town as you. W-What if they're somewhere else entirely?"

Roman blinked. Seriously? Was that it? He couldn't help but give the kid an incredulous look. Sure, finding someone in another was difficult, but hardly impossible. Maybe his experience coloured his views somewhat, but even back in back in Remnant, where you had to deal with shady information networks and rampant grimm, it was certainly doable.

"You're worrying too much. You know that, right?"

The girl slowly shifted her attention back up to face him, standing completely silent as she staring at him with silver eyes. For his part, the criminal rolled his eyes in response, bringing a hand up to his forehead in an exaggerated gesture as he released a sigh.

"I mean, c'mon. This isn't exactly Remnant, remember? For some reason, they've got guilds scattered all over the place, and in case you forgot, you're an honorary member of both now. That means you can just ask around. Besides, your friends aren't exactly inconspicuous. I'm sure someone would notice that blonde maniac of a sister you have, or that stuck-up Schnee heiress. To say nothing of your kitty cat friend. Not sure this place even _has_ faunus."

And just like that, Red's face brightened immediately. Hopefully, his words gave her enough of an idea to get started, so she could get out of his ha-

Roman's eye twitched. Red had moved, with nothing but petals floating listlessly at her previous spot. Slowly, he turned his gaze downwards, holding back the urge to take his weapon and _hit her_. Instead, he took in a deep breath, his brow furrowed as he tried to compose his words in the least threatening manner he could think of. "...What do you think you're doing?"

The girl slowly turned up to face him, the slight smile that was on her face slowly shifting to a confused stare as she looked up at him. But that wasn't the important part... The important part was that, for some stupid reason, she had decided to invade his personal space. "Hugging you?"

"I meant, why."

"Because!"

Her non-answer was the last straw, and Roman quickly took out his cane. Before the little hooded idiot could react, Roman wedged his weapon between the two of them, and with a single twist of his arm, pried the Beacon brat off of him. Or, at least, tried to. The kid had decided to make the entire action a spectacle, refusing to let go as she cling onto his suit. Which she was now ruining.

"No fair! You let Recette hug you!" The immature brat's voice screamed out in defiance as she clung on. Why did she choose _this_ of all things to waste her energy? It took a few more tries, but through precise application of his cane, as well as a well-aimed flick of his finger against the bridge of Red's nose, Roman had eventually managed to pry himself free.

"In case you forgot, our little manager had confessed to throwing away her entire future, for absolutely no reason." Ignoring Red's angry pout and puffed up cheeks, Roman turned his attention back to the counter, his voice and tone completely neutral as he slowly picked up the sales manifest. "Absolutely no sane reason, at any rate. How she thought I was 'lonely', I'll never understand, but since she apparently did it for me, I figured some allowances were in order."

"See? I knew you weren't that bad."

Roman flinched, but at least he didn't fall for her ruse this time. Instead, he deliberately kept his gaze on the documents in front of him, not giving the huntress-wannabe a response beyond a noncommittal shrug. "Shouldn't you be visiting the Adventurer's guild or something, Red?"

"Oh, right!" Once more, the kid disappeared in a puff of petals, no longer beside him as she stood at the shop's exit. Thankfully, it seemed like she was finally committed to leaving him alone. He wasn't quite sure why she felt the need to wave back at him, wearing a ridiculous smile as she slowly opened the door, but that was a small price to pay for solace. "Thanks again, Roman! I'm off for now."

"Yeah, sure. I'll let Thumbelina know."

And just like that, Red was out of the door.

The crook released a sigh, not knowing how long he had held his breath for. Honestly, dealing with her was a stress-induced headache all on its own, and the sooner she left, the he wasn't even that bothered by the prospect of Red finding her little group of friends. Sure, they'd probably be a thorn in his side or something, but he'd much rather prefer simple crook-to-cop combat than whatever the hell _that_ just was. The last thing he needed were more headaches in his life.

With that thought in mind, Roman Torchwick settled his gaze back to his book, hoping against hope that nothing else decided to occur that day.

Perhaps that's why the door opened at that very moment. Because, rather than leave him alone, life wanted to test the criminal's dwindling patience.

How else could he explain the sight of a cardboard box slowly shuffling into the store?

* * *

"Wh-what?!"

An ear-piercing voice filled the store the moment he lifted the box. Originally, he had intended to kick the damn thing over, but all that would've done was make a bigger mess for him to clean up. Besides, there was a slim chance that the box would've been Recette or something, and the last thing he needed was a reason to lose his newly attained freedom.

Unfortunately, while it wasn't Recette underneath the box, fate had still decided to throw some annoying kid at him.

The crook stood tall as he turned his eyes down at annoyance beneath the box. There, standing in front of him with equal parts shock and fear, was some blonde-haired idiot of a girl that looked... Recette's age, really. Seriously, what the heck was up with parental guardians in this world? Do they just let their little snots run free? Either way, Roman couldn't help but raise a single brow in confusion, an irritated look in his face as he stared down at the mysterious little intruder. "...And just what do we have here?"

The girl quickly threw a worried glance around her, eyes darting around the room for a few moments before eventually turning back up to face him. Still, he had to give her credit... as scared as she looked, the girl seemed adamant in confronting him, rather than running out the door.

"A-Ahem!" The tiny girl made a gesture of clearing her throat as she rose to her feet, her back straightening as she took a defiant stance, her turquoise eyes meeting his gaze. "...Plebeian! You stand before the owner of the monolithic item store chain, 'Big Bash'!"

Roman blinked. But could you blame him? Of all the things he expected to hear from the girl, a sudden declaration like that certainly wasn't one of them. So, the classy criminal chose to remain silent, dropping the cardboard box beside him as he gave a silent glare at the child. Perhaps not his best glare, but he had a taxing morning, okay? The last thing he needed was another kid to distract him.

"W-what? Is there something you'd like to say?"

The child returned his stare, a bit less sure of herself as she reflexively backed away from the criminal. Not that the criminal cared, and all Roman roman gave in response to her silly question was a simple glance, his eyes turning to the discarded wooden box beside him, before returning to the child. "... I'm only going to ask once. Who are you, and why were you underneath a box?"

"Gah!" If he didn't know better, he could've sworn that the brat recoiled more from the box comment than from his glare. Which made about as much sense as everything else, so he didn't really pay it much attention. The child, on the other hand, quickly pushed the box away, kicking it to the corner of the room before turning up to face him. "I-I see...! Of course, an opponent such as yourself possesses the skill and wit to pierce through my clever ruse. Truly, you are fit to be my rival!"

Yeahno. There was a limit to the stupidity, and Roman had just reached that threshold. Rather than attempt to make sense of the situation around him, the obvious solution was simply to pass off the responsibility to Tinkerbell. After all, she was the one who had a knack for dealing with delusional brats.

"...Rival, huh? You must be looking for the owners. Sorry, but it looks like they're out at the moment. You'll just have to come back later, right? Right. Now run along."

Already, the criminal was trying to shoo the kid out of the door, caring less and less about whatever it was she was ranting about. He certainly didn't have time to play babysitter, especially when the actual store needed to open up soon. Did she really have to arrive now of all times? Couldn't she have arrived an hour ago, when Recette and Tear had decided for an early excursion to the Merchant guild? Or even five minutes ago, when Red had been around? Really, Roman simply didn't want to deal with this.

"You mean you're not the owner? Oh, of course you aren't!" Unfortunately, it seemed he had to, since the kid wasn't taking the hint. Still, at least it sounded like she was willing to-"Clearly, your talents are in more physical aspects, like security! I apologize for not recognizing your inability to conduct business."

Roman stopped. This wasn't just some kid messing around. This was a kid who, despite every single opportunity she had been given, had decided to go out of her way to annoy him. Of course, he understood that baseless, senseless remarks from children were hardly important in the scheme of things, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted to throw the little brat out the door. At least he hid that feeling well, his face completely neutral as he stared at the brat.

"...Sure. Now, like I said, you'll have to come back later."

"Well, since I've already gone through the trouble of arriving at this location... I believe this is a great opportunity!" The child brushed off his suggestion, her attention already focused elsewhere as she smiled to herself, her eyes closed with a smug little expression plastered on her face. "Hold your praise, plebeian, for you will have the distinct honour of serving I, Alouette, on her first official business foray into this dubious shop of Recettearoman! Prime?"

No. There were too many things wrong with that sentence. Roman couldn't even muster a response at that point. Plebeian? Alouette? _Recettearoman_? He couldn't even focus on the fact that the little snot had insulted him anymore. When the hell did they manage to change the name?

"Yeah, yeah, what is it?" A completely deadpan tone snapped the thief from his thoughts, as the light, tinny voice of yet another newcomer echoed from outside the shop. It didn't take long for the owner of said voice to enter, as the door had somehow been open the entire damn time, leaving the thief completely confused when he found himself face to face with another floating fairy thing. "Oh, I mean... what is it, 'young mistress'. And I see your attempt at infiltration has failed... So who's the big guy?"

"M-My attempt did not fail! I merely did not anticipate them to have such robust security!" Was that supposed to be a complement? Then again, it was perfectly clear to Roman at this point that this was nothing more than a kid playing with her damned fairy friend. "But enough about that! It seems that our rivals are not present at the moment, leaving the store completely manned by this common worker! It is a perfect opportunity for us to conduct a more thorough investigation of their store!"

"... Didn't you just call me robust security?"

"Eh, just go with it. It's faster this way." Rather than the kid, it was the fairy who responded, the tiny red-themed woman casually flitting through the air as she sat down on a nearby lamp. "Besides, it's not like she'll do anything worth worrying about."

Huh. It was refreshing to hear someone with a more practical outlook on life. Roman was honestly surprised that, of all the people to have that trait, it was in a fairy. Guess Tinkerbell wasn't the best representative of her race or something. Still, that didn't change the fact that they were going to get in the way.

"Yeah, no, I'm gonna have to decline. Despite what happened the past few days, I am _not_ a babysitter. And in case you two didn't notice the sign out front, we're about to open in a few minutes, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. Can't have our paying customers trip over you while you're doing... whatever it is you're doing."

"Paying customers?" At that moment, the blonde-haired kid rose to her feet, no longer content on examining the underside of a display table as she turned to face Roman. " _ **Ohohoho!**_ I'll have you know that I, Alouette, am more than capable of fulfilling that role."

"Damnit Mistress." A tiny facepalm sounded out from beside Roman, a clear indicator as any that he wouldn't enjoy what came next. " _Please_ don't spend too much this time?"

Or not. As the tiny girl pulled out a very noticeable pouch of money, Roman Torchwick couldn't help but grin. After all, he needed to do his job, right? So it would be a gross violation of his responsibilities to not accommodate them. And he couldn't help it if certain customers decided to be more frivolous than others.

"Too much? Oh Prime, how can I possibly do that?" The kid's voice snapped Roman from his thoughts, and he turned just in time to see the girl pull out one of those stupid tiny brass statue things. Was she seriously considering buying one of those? It'd certainly be a useful way of getting rid of the trash, especially since people were usually sensible enough to avoid them. "Items like these are worth _at least_ 7000 pix, right?"

...Again. It'd be a gross violation of his responsibilities not to accommodate paying customers. And if they weren't capable of judging an item's actual worth? Well, maybe her parents shouldn't entrust her with so much money.

Roman only felt a _little_ guilty as he made his way to the shop's register.


	18. Week 2: Jade Way

**Week 2: Jade Way**

* * *

Promises were important. You might not expect it, but being the professional that he was, Roman Torchwick took promises very seriously. His career and reputation required a certain set of standards, and as a result, the suited criminal's personal code of conduct ensured that he fulfilled any promises he made to the letter.

Of course, that wasn't to say that he made them often. Another side effect of his job was that he had gotten very good in giving out things that sounded a lot _like_ promises. Mostly everyone he had negotiated with, from his criminal correspondences and the people he bribed, all the way to the White Fang and Cinder herself, had all been given 'assurances'. From words of good faith to displays of confidence, the criminal had meticulously made sure that every single agreement he had made was _not_ a promise.

Which was why he was proud to say that, through his years of thieving, conniving, and general rabble-rousing, Roman Torchwick had not gone back on a single promise he'd made. Sure, he had gotten close a few times, since his particular career choice was hardly the safest, but even murderous idiots couldn't stop the suited criminal from keeping his record pristine. So, with all this in mind, it was clear that Roman Torchwick did not make any promises lightly.

Which was why Roman had promised that, the moment he finally found a way to return to Remnant, he would rob that old man and his Dust store blind.

Not because of any malicious intent, mind you. It's just that he couldn't believe how utterly soul-crushing it was to man a store desk, unable to do anything but stand there in place as idiots placed their grubby hands all over the merchandise.

See, while that blonde brat had been a welcome source of income for the store, that was something that Recette would've appreciated, rather than himself. For his part, the thief had found nothing stimulating from conning some brat out of her money, especially not when she accepted ridiculous prices at face value. The little fairy thing she had following her was a bit better, sure, but even her ability to haggle was woefully lacking. After all, he had seen the listed prices for himself, both in the town's local markets and in the merchant's guild, so the fact that they accepted a 140% markup on the items was utterly ridiculous.

And that was just the things they had which were brand new.

For some stupid reason, the populace thought that this store was a discount pawn shop or something. After the fairy and her irritatingly loud charge left, the store was flooded by the rest of the townsfolk, all intent on pawning off their silly little items. Like any good merchant, he ignored their amateur appraisals and pricing justification—Family heirloom walnut bread? Really?—and bought their items at a third or so of the store's ridiculous marked-up value. Some complained, and they were the more interesting ones, but most of the schmucks accepted the price with a smile, allowing him to restock their store with much cheaper second-hand goods. That they sold at a premium.

So yeah, the actual sales process had been mindnumbingly dull, and served as a brilliant reminder why Roman Torchwick had chosen his particular lifestyle. That boredom was the exact reason why he made sure that he'd rob that old man blind the next time he was in town; the poor guy's needed some excitement in his day.

But enough about that.

He had finished his duties as a boring clerk, and his shift had been reclaimed by Recette and Tinkerbell. That meant that, surprisingly enough, he was free to do whatever he wanted for the rest of the day with no one questioning his methods or motives. It was kind of liberating, really, and the man couldn't help but smile as he turned his attention towards the adventurer's guild.

"O-oh! Mr. Roman!"

Or not. He hadn't even taken three steps away from the store yet before he was interrupted. The thief turned his attention to the source of the voice, a guess of who it was already in his mind the moment he heard the childish tone. There, standing behind him, was the town's resident mage, nervously skulking about in his robes as kid looked up at him.

"... Caillou." He gave the kid a nod. Sure, Caillou had been an unexpected visitor, but it took more than some kid randomly showing up to ruin Roman's mood. And more importantly than that, the magical brat seemed like he had some actual business here, a massive stick in one hand as the child clutched at some piece of paper with the other. Roman gave a deliberate glance to the two items, a single eyebrow raised as he stared at the kid. "Was there something you needed?"

"A-actually... yes. I had intended to visit your store to formally apologize for my behaviour the other day. While I did apologize to you, I did not adequately apologize to the..." The kid paused for a moment, as if straining to form the final words of his sentence. After a few seconds, however, he finally pushed out the words, with no small amount of effort as the child stared at him. "The other store owner."

"Okay then." Roman quirked an eye at that particular statement. Oh yeah... the kid _had_ mentioned something about that yesterday, didn't he? During his frantic shout and subsequent retreat from the library? Honestly, the crook had forgotten about that, and gave the kid a shrug. It wasn't like it mattered to him or anything. "Well, I'll just be on my way..."

"On your way? Where are you going?" Caillou's eager eyes shot up at him, the brat completely forgetting his original reason for being here as he let out an embarrassed cough. "E-er... I mean... If you don't mind telling, that is."

Was there any harm in letting the kid know? Probably not. For once, Roman wasn't doing anything illegal; not only was his excursion sanctioned by the floating nightlight herself, it was actually part of his official duties in the Adventurer's guild. So really, what was the harm? "Oh, you know, wanted to get some fresh air. Stretch my legs and such at the local dungeon."

"R-Really?!" Suddenly, the kid approached, standing two steps away from the crook as he looked up at him. "I was planning on doing so too, after my errand! W-which dungeon are you visiting, if I may ask? And may I accompany you?"

Okay... getting a bit weird. Did this kid really not have someone watching over him? Honestly, Roman was having flashbacks to Red with how eager this brat was getting.

With that said, did he had a reason to deny the kid? Surely he'd be a better companion than Red was, and Roman was genuinely curious about how magic in this world worked. Seeing it first-hand was probably the best course of action he could take, and given how useless the books he had borrowed were, he probably could do a lot worse than dragging some kid along. With another shrug, the well-dressed criminal gave the kid a single nod. "You know what? Sure. Just finish up with whatever it was you were doing an-"

"Thank you thank you thank you!" And just like that, the kid reminded Roman that he was a kid. Without wasting another moment, Caillou opened the door to the store, and rather than enter the building, decided to stick his head through the opening. "HiI'msorryformybehaviouryesterdaybye!"

And then he closed the door, before shooting an overeager expression up to Roman. "I'm done, sir! Shall we get going? I can't wait to help you with your next experiment! What sort of study are you..."

Roman sighed. This was going to be a long walk.

* * *

The kid just didn't stop.

Sure, Roman hadn't exactly helped with the issue, since he had to stick with the whole magical researcher schtick he had going on, but the thief did not expect the kid to talk this much. Perhaps it was a mistake asking about the kid's own plans in the dungeon... At first, it had been deflection to get the kid to stop asking about his own plans, since he wasn't exactly concrete about what he wanted to do. However, that little bit of encouragement caused Caillou to go into full-blown researcher mode or something, as the brat instantly began rattling off his theories and experiments and stuff.

But, as annoying as it was, Roman couldn't find it in himself to shut the kid up. It took only a few veiled questions about "fundamentals" and "showing your proof" for the kid to go into a long tirade about some underlying magical concepts in his experiment, which was useful in its own right. However, a larger part of his motivation not to shut the brat up was that the kid always fell into this weird silence the moment someone walked by, only to awkwardly try and pick up his last thought whenever people were out of earshot. Honestly, it was embarrassing to look at, so Roman decided that constant prattling as a better alternative to awkward silence.

And that was his only reason, so don't go reading into it.

At any rate, the constant conversation meant that their entire journey through the town had been an uneventful trek that involved random bouts of silence, coupled with a one-sided conversation on some theory about magical field composition. When they had finally reached the Adventurer's Guild, Roman had a acquired a second-hand understanding of basic elemental concepts, and by the time they had actually entered through the dungeon portal, that understanding had advanced to complete familiarity.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of that fact. Sure, he was unerringly smart and amazingly talented, but even he hadn't expected to pick up on things so quickly. Were the basics of magic so... simple? The way the kid described it, it almost behaved like aura, except it was more subconscious or something. Oh, and used some weird element thing instead of aura as its base, but that part didn't really need explaining.

Or maybe it did. Perhaps all the flowery words in his textbooks were supposed to be taken a bit more literally. If that was the case... well, the thief wasn't quite sure what to think in that case. Outrageous metaphors were one thing, but if a passage like "resonates with the blessing of spirits" was to be taken literally, then this magic thing might be a bit more involved than he thought. Then again, the brat hardly mentioned anything about that, so Roman simply didn't know.

Damnit, he'll have to remember to visit that stupid library again after this little expedition. Still, the thief pushed those thoughts out of his mind, turning his attention to the environment in front of him as he stepped through the dungeon portal.

...The first thing that he noticed about the environment was that, unlike the dungeon he had been forced to spend with Red, this particular place wasn't some forgotten stone ruin. Instead, from what Roman could see, this particular dungeon was some sort of grassy plain or something, surrounded by distant trees and a wall of shrubs, all while a very artificial-looking dirt road struck a random path through the foliage. It was certainly a lot more open than the ruins, and he couldn't help but wonder if this place was truly a dungeon at all.

"Here we are! Jade Way!" Caillou spoke out, the brat's voice dispelling Roman's worries the moment they arrived, only to replace them with a multitude of questions. Unfortunately, those questions would have to wait until later, as the kid immediately turned to face the classy criminal. "S-so... What exactly do you plan to do, sir? Is there anything I can help with?"

Ah, here we go. The first part of maintaining his cover. Fortunately, Roman already had half a plan laid out, and the moment he saw the strange environment of the dungeon, the rest of his plot fell into place. Slapping on his signature he turned to the kid. "Well, I'm glad you asked. See, first part of my little study involves examining the borders of our dungeon here. You know... See how far those trees and stuff stretch on."

"P-pardon?" Immediately, the kid's expression dampened, turning to a look of confusion as he stared up at Roman. "I don't mean to question your decision, sir, but... Are you sure? W-we've already explored the physical limitations of dungeon manifestations. The area around trees act as a physical wall, and we aren't able to bypass them. It's one of the rules of the dungeon."

"...Are you sure about that, kid?"

It was obvious that the magician would be skeptical. After all, he had literally written the book on dungeons. However, Roman was completely unperturbed by that vote of non-confidence, his smile not waning as he made his way over to one such tree. Then, to confirm the kid's little statement, the criminal reached out with his hand, only tofeel the telltale presence of a physical wall, completely invisible to the naked eye as he pressed against it.

Unfortunate that the brat had been proven right, but Roman didn't care too much about it. If anything, that little gesture was more grandstanding for his demonstration, and as he saw the skeptical expression plastered on Caillou's face, his grin widened. "Well, colour me surprised. As a magician, I thought _you_ of all people would understand the most important thing about magic."

"The most important...thing?" The doubt on the kid's face slowly shifted to curiosity, and Roman grinned internally at the little change. Just a little bit more, and his little scam would be finished.

"Oh dear. How could you forget? The most important thing about magic is really quite simple." The criminal grinned, then gathered his Aura. Not only that, but he did so in the least efficient way possible, a flashy gesture that created a very visible red light around his fingertips. "It has rules, sure, but rules can change. It's our job to make sure they don't."

A line pulled completely out of the air, but one that served its purpose. It was clear the brat could see his aura, but just as telling was the fact that he couldn't recognize it, as a look of surprise and wonder filled the kid's face as he kept his eyes on Roman's hand.

"How did you...? I don't feel any Spiritual Power at all."

"Sorry kid, but some things, you just gotta learn for yourself." Internally, the criminal chuckled. As similar to aura as magic might've sounded, it was still apparently a completely different force altogether. And while he had just learned that little fact, there was no reason he needed to explain that to the kid. All the magician brat needed to understand was that the criminal knew something that he did not, and Roman's legitimacy was assured. No longer was there any doubt on Caillou's face, and Roman's work was complete.

All that was left was to complete the little farce, and come up with some half-baked words of wisdom to cement his place as mysterious wizard. Roman leaned in against the invisible wall as he spoke. "After all, as an intellectual, isn't it your responsibility to-... to..."

And just like that, Roman's grin melted away. Not because of something the brat did, and not because of he had done, either. See, Caillou was watching with rapt attention as Roman leant back against the border of the dungeon, his aura-coated hand pressed up against the wall.

The problem?

He felt something remarkably close to aura push back against him.

* * *

This didn't make any sense. And as he absently made his way through the dungeon, blindly walking along the dirt path, that single thought filled the criminal's mind.

"Sir? I-Is everything alright?" The brat's voice echoed from somewhere or another, but Roman couldn't afford to pay attention to it.

See, Roman might not have been Remnant's greatest scholar, since his line of work rarely involved studying things that weren't blueprints or people, but he still knew about a few things that you'd consider common sense. Aura was one of those things, and even he understood that, as mysterious as it was, aura had a few basic rules. Different from person to person, can enhance equipment... all that good stuff. but the thing that jumped out the most about it?

Aura only appears in living things. Trees, grass, annoying corgis, meddling huntsmen and huntresses... even those animals in the White Fang, all those things had aura. So why the _hell_ did the dungeon wall have it? Or, at the very least, have something close to it?

"Sir! You've been quiet for quite some time now! Are you okay? A-and please be careful about where you're stepping!" Again, Caillou spoke up, this time accompanied by the sound of some slime exploding or something. Honestly, Roman wasn't too sure, nor did he try to figure it out.

Was what he felt actually something similar to Aura? What if he was just mistaken, and that was how magic felt? Sure, it was nothing like the Ability thing that that thief from yesterday did, nor was it anything at all like what he had seen from that seedy adventurer kid that hung around with Recette, either. But what those things were just one way for magic to manifest, and this wall was another? He had to be sure... But that meant he needed to observe more forms of magic.

Without warning, Roman stopped, turning his head to the kid following him, his eyes serious. "Caillou, stop what you're doing. I need you to do something for me."

The kid immediately stopped, standing rigid as he stared at the crook. That's when Roman noticed that he had been fighting one of the dungeon slimes. Before the bouncing bubble of annoyance could interrupt him, the criminal brought his cane down on the monster, quelling its short existence instantly, before turning back to the kid. "Now, I need you to fire a fireball or lightning or whatever it is you do _over there_."

He wasn't even paying attention to where he pointed. What was important was that he needed to see magic in action.

"S-sir? Are you sure? That's-"

" _Now_ , Caillou. This is important." Roman's eyes narrowed. Then softened when he saw the kid flinch. "Look... Sorry if I'm not making any sense, but this is very important to my studies. Just... let's see it, okay?"

A hesitant nod came from the kid as he took a deep breath. After a few moments, the magician gripped his staff, his posture tense as he began the process of casting his spell or whatever. The effects were visible, and Roman could clearly see the magic power form around the kid. His frown deepened at this, the situation around him making less and less sense as he watched.

Finally, the spell completed, and Caillou unleashed a fireball into the prescribed direction. Roman's eyes followed, watching as the ball of pure magic flew through the air, a sensation that was completely foreign to him as it drew closer and closer to Red.

...Wait, what?

"Ow!" And as the familiar voice of Red rose up, Roman lost his train of thought, completely confused as to why she had been here of all places. The confusion remained plastered on his face as the girl turned around, her own expression a mixture of pain and upset irritation as she threw a glare. "Hey! What's the big ide-... Roman?"

"Did you say... Roman?" A second voice rose up. Any semblance of sense had disappeared.

Caillou, understandably, had been completely lost in the situation. Roman didn't blame him, since the kid had absolutely no idea who Red or her friend was. Red, too, had been taken by surprise, certainly not expecting to see him here. However, it was the remaining two people who were truly lost, as Roman turned his gaze towards the final person present, eyes wide as he stared at the red-haired girl.

"Is that... Cereal box?"

And the famous Pyrrha Nikos, four-time regional tournament champion of Mistral, stared back.


	19. Week 2: An Encounter

**Week 2: An Encounter**

* * *

Welp.

Not gonna lie; Of all the people he expected to find down here, Red was the last person to come to mind. Then again, Roman Torchwick hadn't expected to find anyone in the first place—that was part of the reason he was here, after all—so the fact that he stumbled on both Red and her equally-red, hopefully-less-annoying friend did little to help the criminal's mood.

"Hi Roman!"

And unfortunately, it seemed that Red did not share his particular mood, as the Beacon brat immediately perked up the moment she registered his presence. Then again, she might've just cheered up from realizing that he wasn't an annoying monster or something.

"Wait... Why did you throw a fireball me?!" The hooded brat immediately pointed an accusing finger at him, her cheeks puffing on that childish mock-annoyance that she seemed to enjoy as she slowly crossed her arms together. Then, like the theatrical display of nonsense that she was, Red's face shifted from the pout to a confused stare as her silver eyes fell on him. "... _How_ did you throw a fireball at me?"

"Actually Red, the honour of performing such a noble deed goes to none other than my brilliant little assistant here." Roman made his own theatrics, practically bowing as his hand gestured to the short, green-haired kid to his side. Of course, the display was done for his own amusement, as the thief quickly noticed the look of surprise that formed on the face of Red's little friend. "As you can see, my associate here-"

"You!"

And as usual, Red was Red, immediately ruining his fun as she pointed another accusing finger. What was weird was that, rather than directing it at him, she was more concerned with Caillou's presence for some silly reason, as the look of alarm that quickly formed onto the hooded girl's face was far more genuine than the half-pout she threw at him. Did these two have history with one another?

"W-what? _You?!_ " Apparently so, as the magical brat immediately mirrored Red's actions, the green-haired kid pointing a finger of his own towards the hooded huntress-wanna-be. "You're that idiot from the other day!"

"Hey! I'm no idiot! _You're_ the idiot!"

And just like that, the two descended into bickering. Or shouting. Honestly, Roman wasn't sure, nor did he care. The classy criminal's initial mood quickly changed to one of resignation as he released a tired sigh, shooting a single glance at the two tiny short brats as they began exchanging insults. Well, okay, Caillou was exchanging insults; Red was just stringing various words together in an attempt to sound like she was slinging insults.

Meanie-brain does not an insult make. Seriously, who taught these brats? Didn't they have an abusive parent-figure to teach them how it was done or something?

With a shrug, Roman settled his eyes to the other redhead instead, his thoughts immediately changing pace as he saw the green-eyed Mistrali glare at him. Part of him wasn't exactly sure why, since he hadn't really done anything to warrant immediate scrutiny. However, that was a small part; the rest of him was simply relieved that the girl was reacting the way you'd expect if you suddenly saw a wanted criminal.

"Something I can help you with?" Still, that didn't mean he was going to ignore her. Instead, he gave the girl a bemused smirk, trying to ignore the little argument between red brat and green brat as he crossed his arms. "Though, I must say, I'm quite surprised to see you here. Don't you have some terrible product to promote or something?"

Eh, probably not the best jab he could make, but considering everything he'd been through, Roman was willing to give himself some leeway. Just gotta make sure he was prepared next time.

Did this world have cardboard? He honestly wasn't sure.

"I should be asking _you_ that!" Regardless of his thoughts, Little Miss Champion wasn't quite as pleased to see him, her face fixed into a permanent glare as she stared at him. "What do you think you're doing down here?"

"What's it look like, Cereal Box? Getting an autograph, of course!" Roman grinned, quickly putting on one of his signature smirks as he reached into his pocket, pulling out some old piece of paper he had stored inside his coat, as well as a pen that he stole from Terme Finance. With those tools in hand, the crook gradually made his way over to the girl, his steps slow and exaggerated for effect, much to the Mistrali's chagrin. "Not for me, of course. Could you make it out to-"

And then, through no fault of his own, the pen flew out of his hand in a single motion, pinning the old paper thing to one of the magic trees.

"Eeesh. Okay, okay, don't like publicity. Got it." Roman raised his hands as he slowly backed away, his mocking sneer never fading as he did so.

"What... Do you want, Torchwick?" Huh. When did she pull out her weapons? The thief raised a brow as he stared at her, the metallic glint of her shield and spear dissuading some of his initial bravado as he stepped back. Of course, despite his show of sorta-good faith, the crazy gladiator kept her weapons in hand, proving once again that Huntsmen and huntresses were utterly crazy. "What are you doing _here_? Are you following us?"

Paranoid and crazy. Not the best combination, really.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" It was an honest question, but the thief could clearly see that the spear-wielding maniac wasn't amused. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be his problem, but the crook was somewhat certain that, while Red had some reservations with inflicting violence on his person, this particular redhead wasn't nearly as concerned about his well-being. So, he tried again, straightening his back as he did so, holding back some of his usual banter. "Seriously. I had no idea that you or Red were even in this place. Wasn't she trying to find one of her friends or something?"

"And how do you know about that?" Her eyes narrowed.

Great job, Roman. You forgot the most important rule about dealing with crazy people: they were allergic to logic, and smart statements set them off. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe it's because we're not in Remnant anymore, and she's a short little brat who probably misses her annoying team?"

"W-what?! I'm not short!"  
"Who are you calling a short little brat?"

Two voices rose up, and just like that, the thief noticed that the little argument that had once been an ambient attraction had ceased to be. Roman's eye twitched as he slowly turned his gaze towards the two brats, only to find them sorta-glaring back at him. Neither had a full glare, since Red defaulted back to her stupid pout, and Caillou seemed to have been struggling with himself throughout the entire thing. Regardless, the issue still stood.

"Seriously? _That's_ all it took to shut you two up?" Torchwick's gaze slowly shifting from one of the brats to the other, pausing for just a moment before he finally turned skyward, releasing a single, resigned sigh. "Sure, why not. We've found the secret for world peace: just make everyone vertically challenged."

Then, on pure reflex, Roman jerked his body to the side, deftly avoiding the attack that always followed after calling out crazy females on their short stature. Still, the crook couldn't help but pause for just a moment when he realized that, rather than an annoyingly pointy parasol, he had dodged a poorly aimed clump of walnut bread. He turned his eyes to the source, his expression completely deadpan as he stared at the girl. "... Really, Red? _Really_?"

"Hmmph!" Did she just snub him? She doesn't get to do that after throwing discount bakery goods at him! Of course, her arms were crossed yet again as she stood straight, deliberately not looking at him as she... stood on the tip of her toes.

You know what? Nevermind.

The criminal released another tired sigh, willing the growing migraine in his skull to go away as he turned his attention back to the Mistrali; At least her hostility and perchance for violence was the bearable kind of crazy, right? Yet, as his eyes settled back on the girl, he found that she too had lost her initial edge, as the CCTV hero was now wearing a look of utter confusion on her face.

"What... what was that?"

"What's it look like? Red being annoying, of course." He wasn't quite sure if she was asking him or Red, so he gave her a noncommittal shrug, slowly turning his attention away from both of them as his eyes settled back to the distance. Damnit, he had already forgotten that he had been here for a reason. He needed to get back on track befor-  
"Not that! I mean- Why is she- and you-... Huh?"

Note to self: Cereal box is inarticulate. Roman rolled his eyes at the redhead, ignoring the confusion on her face as he took out one of his reference books, as well as another pen that he also stole from Terme Finance. "Look, Pumpkin Pete, I'll make you a deal. I'll just take my little librarian and walk on over that way, and you and Red can have the time of your life doing whatever it was you were doing over _that_ way, alright?"

"Wait, what _are_ you doing here, Roman?"

Rather than the silly bronze girl, it was Red who answered, already done with her mock-silent-treatment as she poofed beside him. Like, literally poofed, only with her usual silly petals instead of cartoonish smoke or stupid glass. With a sigh, he reluctantly turned to face the girl, knowing that he wasn't about to get away now. "You know what? Why don't you tell me? What's it look like I'm doing, Red?"

"... Reading a book?" The worst part was, her tone was absolutely straightforward as she said that, as though she was giving him a genuine answer.

"Sure. Why not. I'm taking a walk in a magical, stupid dungeon, while reading a book. Because that makes sense."

"Really? Wait, does that mean you're trying to help me find Blake?" Roman immediately backed away from her as Red drew closer, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared up at him. Honestly, with all the stupid misunderstandings she's been having, it was safer to just be quiet around her. "Thank you thank you!"

"Ruby... I really don't think that someone like Torchwick is here to help." The voice of the crazy gladiator quickly rose up, and Roman couldn't help but be thankful for the brat's sudden intervention. And more importantly, Roman couldn't help but hear the suspicion in her voice, restoring some of the faith he had in people. "I'm sure there's some _other_ reason he's here."

"I guess you're right..." Red looked a bit downcast at that statement, staring at the dirt road for a few moments before turning back up to face him. "Wait, that means you're on your break, right? Does that mean you _can_ help me look for Blake?"

The criminal was about to say something, _anything_ to ward off the girl's spontaneous optimism, but once again, Red's red friend spoke up first. "...Wait, break? What do you mean break?"

"Yeah, break! You know, like when you don't need to work for a little bit?"

Roman had no words. Not for the sudden turn that the conversation had taken, nor for the tone that Red seemed to address him with, now. About the only thing he could appreciate from the scene before him was the look of confusion that was slowly spreading on TV-girl's face.

"No, I mean- How... Why do you know that? That he has... break?"

"Because I work with him, of course! For him? You know, I'm not exactly too sure."

Okay, you know what? The criminal would formally like to take back everything he had just said. The moment he saw the gladiator's reactions to Red's answer, the perfect word came to mind.

 _Hilarious._

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ruby, but... I need to ask again. Why exactly are you working for Roman Torchwick? Or with?" For the third time, the other redhead's voice rose up. While it had been funny to hear it the first time, and somewhat entertaining the second, her confusion had gotten stale by now, and the criminal in question couldn't help but suppress a sigh as he continued to walk forward. "Y-you understand that he's a criminal, right?"

"For the last time, Mr. Torchwick is _no_ criminal!" Oh yeah. The repeated, vehement refusals by his magic-inclined aide had kind of gotten tiresome as well. And unfortunately, unlike Pumpkin Pete's confusion, they had never been entertaining in the first place; he had enough of screaming brats in his usual day-to-day activities. "I have no doubt that he is a respected member of the magical community, and he is here to conduct a formal investigation! Maybe _you're_ the criminal!"

Huh. That last line had been new, at least.

"E-Excuse me?" It seemed that the little warrior girl didn't appreciate that particular accusation, as she finally turned her attention away from Red to face his little assistant instead. "I'll have you know that Roman Torchwick is infamous, and his crimes have disturbed many innocent lives in the city of Vale!"

"And I'll have _you_ know that I've never heard of such a city as Vale." Caillou, as usual, rebuffed her statement with simple disregard or something, turning away from the girl as he made a very exaggerated motion of ignoring her. "If they truly have a problem with him and his works, then maybe it's just a stupid city!"

"Hey! Vale's not a stupid city!"  
"I wasn't talking to you, you idiot!"  
"You're an idiot!"

The criminal slowly buried his face into his hands. This... This was genuinely worse than working with the White Fang. Or Junior's group of idiots. _Or even Cinder's brats_. At least the aforementioned morons had the decency to keep quiet! Yet, his present company seemed to not understand the concept of appropriate noise levels, and their screeching was driving him mad. He had to force himself to look at the bright side, but as their argument became more and more pronounced, he struggled to find one.

... At least their constant yelling was keeping the monsters away?

Of course, life being what it was, the exact moment Roman came to this thought, a monster appeared. And of course, it wasn't any old monster—oh no, that would be convenient and merciful. The monster that had decided to make itself known was none other than a giant blue slime monster, easily the size of a freaking Bullhead as landed before them in a single, ground-shaking impact.

As the man's eyes slowly took in the monster's form, Roman couldn't help but release a wry chuckle. A dry laugh. A whatever-you-want-to-call-it. The reason for that was he had finally received irrefutable proof that this monster's presence was all an elaborate prank, set up by fate or destiny or whatever, all to torment him.

Why? _Because the freaking slime had a freaking tiny crown on it.  
_  
No _._ This was stupid. Idiotic. Imbecilic. And any other words that could adequately describe how utterly _done_ Roman was with this nonsense.

Without wasting another word, and completely ignoring whatever reaction the three idiotic kids behind him had, the Criminal immediately drew his cane. The slime, however, noticed this little action, apparently smarter than the three brats tormenting him as it shifted towards him. Or, you know, bubbled a bit in his general direction.

That bubbling was apparently a warning, as the Slime immediately leapt upwards a moment later, easily rising ten or so meters into the air, suspended above the group in a powerful display of defiance towards conventional physics, before it came crashing back downwards as a blur of giant blue death. While he didn't doubt the abilities of the two huntress-wanna-bes, the criminal was quite certain that Caillou was far less trained in the ridiculous profession of senselessly dying to monsters.

So, as Roman bolted out of the way, he hooked the crook of his cane around his assistant's robe, giving the child a rough tug as he pulled the kid out of the way.

"G-gah!"

"Damnit kid, get out of here!"

Roman gritted his teeth as he practically flung the child aside, turning his attention back to the slime monster as he did so; The last thing Roman wanted was for his only source of reliable information to die. Plus, it'd probably look bad on his adventurer resume if he let one of the Guild workers die here, so if he wanted to take advantage of the organization, he'd have to... _ugh_. He'd have to play nice with adventurers like this brat, that seedy swordsman, or _Red_.

... He was frustrated now. Understandably so.

Well, if there was one good thing to come out of this entire incident, it was that a giant stress ball had just presented itself to the thief. Roman sped forward, getting serious for the second time in this stupid world, his eyes widening slightly at his... unexpectedly high speed. Those power gem things were really something, huh?

Regardless, he quickly closed the distance between himself and the Slime, and with a single snap of his arm, the criminal's cane came down in a blindingly powerful strike. The sound of metal impacting slime filled the air, and the resultant strike tore away a good chunk of the monster, as a viscous blue liquid spewed out from his target.

Oh, but he wasn't done there. Without waiting for the monster to react, Roman kicked back from his position, springing from the side as he leapt upwards, his motions fueled by aura and irritation as he mirrored the monster's previous motion. And just like the Slime King, his particular insult to physics had culminated in a meteoric strike, both hands clutching his weapon as he descended upon his victim with a display of power.

A loud crunch echoed out as he struck the slime monster.

The monster bellowed. He wasn't quite sure how, but the slime released a pained cry, sounding more like an animal than a blob of jelly as it quivered in pain and anger. Some more chunks of slime splattered outwards, a disgusting mist that stained the dirt road blue as parts of the monster began crumbling.

But it was not dead, nor did Roman expect it to be.

A large piece of the monster dripped off from its form, but unlike the splatters that he had forced out of the monster, Roman couldn't help but notice how uniform this particular split seemed to be. The shape of this particular piece of slime was far more deliberate than battle injury, and the man's doubts were realized when that second piece began to move.

Well, that was a disturbing sight.

More bits of the Slime King fell off, spawning forth miniature slime monsters with each action, the blue jello monsters quickly splitting off to collect the fallen splatters of the original body. As the slimes drooped over the traced of blue mist and gel remains, they grew in size and cohesion.

It didn't take long for Roman to realize what they were planning. With an annoyed look on his face, he turned back behind him, shooting a glare at two of the three brats that had trailed him.

"Last I checked, the whole reason kids liked you chose to be huntsmen in the first place was to fight things like this." His voice was unerringly calm, perhaps a stark contrast to the scene before him. That, or he was just good at delivery, as the two Beacon brats remained quiet as they stared at him. He paused, partially for dramatic effect, and partially to scan their surroundings for more of the Slime things, before settling his gaze back to the two huntress-wanna-bes. "... So why don't you idiots _do something already?!_ "

Both wore a surprised look on their face, but thankfully, their idiocy only lasted for a few moments. Red quickly did her thing, disappearing in a blur of flower petals as she dashed towards the nearest slime. Cereal Box followed, her own motions taking her in the opposite direction as she charged down a group of larger slimes, ones that had already reabsorbed a fair portion of the Slime King's original volume.

He wasn't quite sure what _her_ particular plan was, as these idiots were apparently incapable of communication. Still, it didn't matter, and the man began taking his own path as the Mistrali gladiator shot him a single suspicious look, staring at him as she ran past.

"W-wait! Where do you think you're going, Torchwick?!"

"Wait, huh?"

Oh, what do you know? They _can_ talk. They just choose not to, for some reason. Not that it mattered to him, since he would've ignored their words either way; He simply didn't have time to entertain the brats. As they sped off to waste their time on the monsters, intent on somehow slashing or stabbing sentient fluids to death, Roman had his own plan in mind.

Which was why he sped off in the opposite direction.

Once more, his aura, the magical gem things that he had absorbed during his time here, and his own professional athleticism had brought the thief to his destination in mere moments. As he approached his target, however, the criminal's face was devoid of his usual glib, turning to a more serious tone as he stared down at his librarian assistant. "Alright, ready for your first test, kid?"

"W-what? I-I mean... Yes. What do you w-want me to do, sir?"

Roman blinked at the brat's response. For some reason, the kid was stuttering, no longer the composed arrogant wizard brat he had been prior. Which made absolutely no freaking sense. Wasn't this kid an adventurer? Then again, the kid was probably winded from being thrown a few meters so... Eh. He'll give the kid a pass. The thief shrugged his idle thoughts away, forcing his actual expression to remain serious as he turned a gaze towards the two huntresses.

"It's simple. While they run around in circles and distract the slime, you burn with your fire so the stupid thing can't recover itself."

The kid slowly nodded, conviction forming in his eyes as he gripped his magical staff. Roman still wasn't sure how that thing worked, nor did he understand how it interacted with the Magic in this place at all... and as much as he would've liked to sit at the sidelines brat cast his magic, he wasn't able to. His vision turned to the spot behind the kid, eyes narrowing as he continued. "Meanwhile, I'll distract those other two, alright?"

And then, for some weird reason, the kid froze. He wasn't sure why, considering how painstakingly simple the plan was, but the moment he mentioned the last part, he noticed Caillou tense up from the corner of his eyes. Roman shifted his gaze down to the kid, confusion clear on his face as he stared at his assistant. "What? Something I said?"

The child swallowed, before staring back up at him. "U-uhm... Maybe it's not my place to say, but... W-wouldn't it be better if you used your magic?"

"I thought you came along because you wanted to learn something. Unless you think you're too good to deal with something as simple as a slime like that."

"T-that's not it! It's just..." Caillou immediately shook his head, worry in his eyes as slowly turned around, his eyes falling to the two slimes in the distance. For some reason, the kid's worries intensified as he did so, the child gripping his staff far tighter as he slowly turned his eyes back to Roman. "... Crowned Slimes don't normally fight in a group."

The thief gave the kid a single, confused look, not quite sure what the brat was implying. "So what? We ran into a group that was smarter than normal, whoop-de-do."

"N-no! I mean, the Crowned Slimes of Jade Way can't fight in groups! They simply don't develop that way. They're not smart enough to coordinate, nor are they advanced enough to learn." Roman blinked at that statement. "Though... the Crowned Slimes in the Amber Garden are..."

Huh. Amber Garden. If he remembered correctly, that particular dungeon was the one with the silly inconsistent environments. More than that, however, was the fact that the Amber Garden was sealed off, and restricted to the more experienced adventurers. If these slimes were the same as the ones from there then this might be a tad more difficult.

"B-but even they only fight in pairs, and they're... " Once more, the kid's voice trailed off, his tone solemn as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the distant Slimes as they gradually began circling around the forest's edge. "They're still too simple to ambush. I've only read of one instance where Crowned Slimes were developed enough to work together like that."

From the kid's tone, Roman was... somewhat certain that he wouldn't like the kid's response. The thief's eyes narrowed as he settled his attention entirely on the green-haired magician, completely silent as he allowed him to continue.

"The Crowned Slimes of the Lapis Ruins."

The thief had no appropriate response that time.

Unlike the Amber Garden, he hadn't heard of that particular dungeon at all; At least, not on the information board of the Adventurer's Guild. But, now that he thought about it... Roman couldn't recall any books on that particular dungeon either. There was confusion in his voice as he settled his eyes on Caillou. "Hold up, what's the Lapis Ruins? I don't remember reading anything about that place."

"I'm not surprised." The child's voice was lower now. "I-It's a recent discovery on this side of the kingdom. Up until a month ago, we weren't even sure if that place actually existed. There were hints of it, sure, in the scrawled murals of the Obsidian Tower, along with information of the monsters contained inside, but... never anything definite until we found it."

Concern began to set in, both towards the newly discovered information, and towards the kid's particular choice of reference. After all, ominous words in dungeon walls were hardly the most reliable source of information. But, at the same time, if they were accurate... Well, blindly disregarding information like that probably wasn't the best course of action, at least in a world that had obscure, sorta-magical logic like this. He held his words this time, his gaze fixed on the child as Caillou continued.

"And even after finding it... Despite the efforts of the strongest adventurers and brightest mages, we've never been able to access the dungeon. To the best of our knowledge, the Lapis Ruins have remained sealed all this time, its contents completely hidden away from the world."

"So..." That certainly sounds ominous. He gave the kid a look, before settling his eyes on the distant Slimes. "... Why are there monsters from a magically sealed mystery dungeon, lost and wandering in the middle of somewhere like Jade Way?"

Roman frowned as the child remained silent, unable to answer him with anything more than a worried shake of his head.

When your resident wizard is at a complete lost for words... Well, Roman couldn't help but be concerned.


	20. Week 2: A Familiar Path

**Week 2: A Familiar Path**

* * *

Roman Torchwick might not have been the most physically capable criminal of Vale—that title probably went to Neo, if he was perfectly honest—but he was no slouch, either. There were plenty of times where the criminal had been forced to get his gloves dirty, mostly when his idiotic hired help failed to do their job, and as unsavoury as those times had been, it was one of the many reasons why he was no stranger to conflict. And whether it was with foolish henchmen, overeager security, or even the occasional low-ranking huntsman, the rogue had no shortage of experience when it came to combat.

With that said, his experience in fighting semi-intelligent humanoids were completely useless in this situation. Not in the sense of being unusable, but rather, in the sense being completely unneeded. And unusable.

Roman couldn't help but roll his eyes at his opponents. At least people were a challenge. These things? Well...

He paused for just a moment, his attention directed upwards at the one of the living masses of fluid, watching with mild boredom as the thing sailed through the air, before the crook casually hopped out of the way. Seconds later, the mass of irritated jelly descended from the sky, unleashing a terrible shockwave that tore apart the ground, knocking up grass and soil as the Slime King attempted to crush him.

Failed, of course, but... Good effort? Still, no one ever accomplished anything through effort alone. And to prove that point, the criminal moved again, another short motion as he avoided the descent of the second Crowned Slime, the creature's efforts completely wasted as the impact knocked away some of its viscous blue form.

For the criminal, stalling these things were hardly a difficult task, and Torchwick had quickly found that the only threat these monsters brought with them were their ludicrous size and irritating squelching noise. Their motions themselves were simplistic at best, laughably predictable as the slimes compressed themselves in an almost-comical manner, before releasing a huge display of force that launched them skyward.

Still, that force was nothing to scoff at, and he did not doubt the strength behind their attacks. After all, the past ten minutes had consisted of nothing but those stupid jumps and stomps, haphazard attacks that left their mark in the dungeon, the slimes' devastating strikes having more in common with an angry Ursa Major than a puddle of jam. At the same time, if your only redeeming quality is strength, then you'll only make a fool of yourself when you fight someone smarter and more talented than you.

And, if it wasn't obvious already, Roman Torchwick was both of those things. The past ten minutes had consisted of nothing more than those two slimes making fools of themselves, a mess of noise that accomplished almost nothing. The only thing they had managed to hit with their attacks was the ground itself, as the grassy knoll and dirt path had long since been reduced to slime-soaked craters of uprooted soil, and the criminal was having a very hard time understanding why the magical kid had been so worried in the first place.

Between his stalling, the Beacon Brats' admittedly decent combat skills, and Caillou's fireballs, the conflict was being handled at a reasonable pace. Sure, their actual attacks weren't really doing much, since the Slimes didn't seem too concerned by spears or canes, but those strikes were still enough to stagger the monsters, and that allowed the little wizard kid to follow up with his magic. And even if those fireballs weren't enough to outright burn the things, they were still strong enough to draw out a reaction, with each powerful strike smoldering more and more of the living gel's volume away. All things considered, they weren't having too much trouble.

Of course, he wasn't about to voice his concerns now. Despite their efforts, they still hadn't exactly killed the stupid slimes yet, and the last thing he needed was to get overconfident. His run-ins with Red have taught him that mu-

"Ha! These things aren't too tough! I guess you were just silly for worrying about them!"

... _Damnit Red_.

Almost immediately, Roman shot a glare towards the girl, wondering why she had decided to do _that_ of all things. And of course, the moment his attention actually fell on her, he was greeted with the absurd sight of the hooded idiot as she stuck her tongue out at Caillou, acting all the part of a brat. Seriously, did she not _think_ about her actions at all? Or was she just a reckless moron who enjoyed tempting fate for no real reason?

Oh, right. Huntress.

Unsurprisingly, fate answered the call. That, or these slimes were smarter than they looked, as one of the monsters had chosen that exact moment to act. While the huntress-wanna-be acted the part of a short-sighted child, a murderous Slime King took action, reeling back for a few seconds before snapping forward in a deadly blur of blue, physics be damned.

"Oi, Red! You might wanna move!" Roman's voice echoed out the moment the monster took to the air, throwing out an uncharacteristic warning towards the girl as he turned his head away from the spectacle. Part of him had wanted to stay quiet, just so he could see the hilarious results of using a boulder-sized slime monster to shut up that hooded annoyance. However, that would've been... wasteful.

Yeah, that's it. As it stood, Red was more useful to him unharmed, especially since her friend from Beacon was sensible enough to mistrust the criminal.

Really, the easiest way for him to keep that Mistrali maniac at bay was to play into Red's delusions of his nonexistent altruism. Sure, it made his skin crawl every time he pretended to smile, but mild discomfort was always better than a huntress's spear to the gut. And it wasn't like he wasn't used to working in terrible conditions—Heck, he worked under Cinder, didn't he? A small blow to his pride, as well as a bit of mild nausea, was a small price to pay if it meant he could keep self-righteous idiots off of his back.

"Ack!"

The voice of the hooded brat rang out, snapping the criminal from his thoughts. And, shortly after, came the sound of Slime meeting earth, a thundering quake that rippled the ground as the giant monster landed once more.

...Okay, he might've gone through that whole mental justification thing for his actions, but was it too much to hope that he had been too late? That, despite his half-hearted and completely insincere warnings, Red was now a casualty?

"Thanks Roman!"

Yes. Yes it was.

The rogue held back an irritated sigh, forcing his attention away from the brats, his eyes falling instead to the closest Crowned Slime. Fortunately, unlike the inexperienced brats that seemed to surround him, the classy criminal was far more aware of his surroundings, and without missing a beat, leapt out of the way of yet another slam. However, because he was mentally superior to these kids, and because he carried a great deal more insight than their mindless fumbling, he had noticed something... odd about that last attack.

Shooting a quick look around him to make sure all opponents were accounted for, the criminal turned his gaze back to the first Crowned Slime, watching with some apprehension as the monster remained inside its self-made crater, making no effort to move from its spot and leap again. The reason for this change in behaviour quickly became clear as the mass of jelly began to quiver, its outer layer losing some cohesion as it actively spewed out a geyser of disgusting blue slime, the torrent of sentient gel aimed directly at him.

Unfortunately for the classy crook, a hose of slime was far harder to avoid than the cumbersome movements of a single gelatinous entity, and though the criminal had reacted quickly, it was not enough to avoid the entire blast. As soon as he landed, the slime on his shoes tensed, latching onto the ground as it tried to root him into place.

... Though, with that said, it was still just a glob of sentient slime. The removal of said slime was as simple as always, and the criminal's cane quickly turned the mass of colour into a pile of useless sludge. Still... Were these things adapting to them or something?

Roman's eyes narrowed, his attention momentarily turning back to the three kids. If the slimes _were_ learning, then dealing with them would be that much more tedious, especially if the brats didn't pick up on the change. And if they didn't... well, he didn't have quite enough tricks up his sleeve to pick up the slack, due to his complete lack of Melodic Cudgel or Dust.

Really, From what he could tell, this world had absolutely nothing that could work as a substitute for either of them. This replacement stick he had made helped a bit, sure, but it certainly didn't provide him with the same wealth of options that his previous weapon had. At best, it only allowed him to channel aura into the thing, which... thinking on it, was weird in its own right. Aura wasn't a thing in this world, right? Why were there materials around that could still conduct it?

Whatever the reason was, Roman didn't have time to think on it. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the Slime monster that had embedded itself into the ground, watching as it began to ripple once more. The monster made another attack, but unlike before, Roman was ready this time, and the criminal immediately focused aura into his steps. A quick lunge brought him away from the monster's attack, and gravity swiftly deposited him beside the Slime, allowing Roman to make his move next.

His cane lashed out, wreathed in aura as it struck against the monster, splattering away parts of the sentient gel as he landed blow after blow. Yet, despite the swiftness and ferocity of his weapon's blunt attacks, it had as much effectiveness as you would've expected it to, the metallic bludgeon causing no permanent damage to the giant puddle. The corner of Roman's lips curled downwards, irritation gradually rising as he turned his attention to the brats, focusing on the green-haired brat as his voice rose up.

"Hey, kid! Could do with a bit more fire here!"

"R-right!"

Just like that, an orb of fire shot out, the embers trailing behind the burst of magic as it collided against the Slime. Well, at least Caillou was prompt, right? Honestly, that kid was more competent than most of his adult subordinates, and as Roman turned back to the gel monster, he mentally made a note to see if he couldn't hire a bunch of homeless brats or something for his next-...

Hello. What's this?

His thoughts were immediately broken by the sight of burn marks on the monster's surface, bits and pieces of charred gel lingering on the creature. Which was interesting in its own right; Unlike before, when the kid's magical attacks had merely exploded against the Slime, this particular gout of flame had somehow been enough to visibly sear the monster.

More intriguing than that, however, was how haphazard the burn marks seemed, the burnt scars looking nothing like an unfocused blast scorched charcoal. Instead, the marks were... uniform, appearing as thin bars of faded colour, scattered sporadically on the creature in seemingly random spots. Or more to the point, appearing at all the spots that Roman had struck at with his aura-fueled cane.

Huh.

"... Hey, Caillou? Toss another fireball over here, would ya? For good measure and all that."

His associate complied, launching yet another magical attack at the oversized gel. However, Roman brought his cane up this time, the metal of his weapon infused with aura as the criminal blocked the attack. And rather than fade, the flickering flames wrapped themselves around the man's weapon, fitting itself around the rod in a sheath of energy. As he registered that interesting fact, Roman Torchwick's frown faded away, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk.

Looks like he still had a few tricks after all.

* * *

"You know, as often as this happens, I still can't say I'm used to this."

As the final power crystal rose up from the ground, the suited criminal couldn't help but frown, his eyes watching the curious item as it flew straight into his arm. Or chest. Or _something_. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure how those multicoloured gem things worked, but considering this was the last one, there was no point in getting worried about it now.

"No fair! How come you got most of them?"

With that said, of their ridiculous group of four, Roman was apparently the only one who was actually worried about it. Red seemed to accept their existence without much thought, and had been more hung up on the fact that they had all converged onto him. Likewise, Caillou didn't care, since this sort of thing was normal for the green-haired brat. And as for Miss CCT celebrity?

"Ruby, please stop acting so friendly with him. He's a _criminal_."

Well... she was more worried about Roman himself than the world around them. Which was something he had to give her credit for, all things considered. Most people would've dropped their guard after a battle like that, but little miss poster child was apparently smart enough to keep her wits about. Then again, the moment he had discovered the whole fire-plus-aura thing, Roman had been pretty overt with his slime removal. Maybe that played a part in her doubts.

"For the last time, Mr. Torchwick is _not_ a criminal!"

Oh, for the love of...

"Yes, he-"

"Alright, all of you just shut up for a moment." Roman wasted no time in stopping this particular argument. He had grown tired of it long before the damned slimes had shown up, and just because he had relieved some stress from killing those things didn't make the argument suddenly more bearable. "Caillou, I need you to go over to those slime things and gather their bits, alright?"

"But-!"

"No buts. I need them for my research, understand?" The man gave the kid a stare, more understanding than the criminal would've liked, but pointless antagonism would just dragged the entire thing on. So, as Caillou gave the rogue a resigned nod, Roman turned back to face the red-haired, green-eyed beacon brat. "Besides... Cereal Box and I need to have a little chat."

"Stop calling me that!"

Such a short-sighted little brat. The fact that she was letting such a stupid nickname bother her like that was the main reason Roman kept it up in the first place. Really, that indignant glare was far more entertaining than it had any right to be, especially since it belonged to the Mistral's loudest snack-food mascot. Still, the criminal hid his amusement beneath a face of utter indifference, shooting the girl a single stare as he raised an eyebrow at her.

The glare intensified. This was simply too amusing. Still, he eventually dismissed the girl, his attention turning back to the clearing, pocketed by craters and the strange remains of the Slime Monsters.

"So, if it's not too much trouble Caillou, could you go gather those things? We may be able to figure out how they ended up here."

"A-alright..."

With that, the kid left, leaving the criminal free to discuss the actual _important_ stuff. His gaze shifted back to the redheaded warrior girl, his expression turning to a more serious tone as he ignored the glare on her face. "Well, now that that's out of the way... I've got a few questions for you, Pumpkin Pete."

"And why should I answer you?" As usual, the girl made no effort to hide her suspicion. At least she didn't try to reach for her weapon this time, though the threat was still clear as she took a cautious stance. "After all, I have a few questions of my own. Namely, what are you doing here, and what are you planning?"

"P-Pyrrha..."

Red tried to protest, but that only drew her friend's attention, as Pyrrha shifted her stare from the criminal to the hooded huntress instead. "And Ruby... Why are you so friendly with him? You know who he is! What he's done!"

"B-but he's not a bad person! I'm sure of it!"

"How can you say that after what he did at the Breach?!"

The air fell quiet fell as Pyrrha's voice rang out, and the concern that Red wore quickly shifted to genuine confusion, seemingly lost on the conversation as she gave her friend a blank stare. However, Roman wasn't quite as ignorant about the girl's words, and his reaction was far different. The criminal's couldn't help but give pause as he heard the Mistrali's words, staring at the Nikos girl as his previous mask fell away, leaving only an expression of shock on his face. "Wait... What did you just say?"

"You heard me!"

Her face turned back towards the criminal, eyes staring daggers as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "How dare you pretend to be a good person after causing so much tragedy? Do you think that warning Ruby once, or helping us fight a few monsters is enough to make up for all of that?!"

Of course he didn't. He wasn't thinking about that at all; His mind had moved onto more important things. Rather than entertain her blathering, the man stared at her, trying to read her expression as he spoke. "... Before you ended up here, what was the last thing you remembered?"

"Huh? Why should I-"

"Damnit, we don't have time to waste arguing on this!" His voice rose up, drowning out the girl's protests as he stared at her. " _Look._ Red and I remember completely different things, and neither of us have any clue how we got here. And now you show up out of nowhere, spouting on about something that's a distant memory for me, and completely unknown to Red!"

"W-... What?" Thankfully, that little blurb of information was enough to get the Nikos brat to calm down. What was once anger and mistrust gradually began to fade to a worried sense of concern, as the redhead slowly turned from the criminal to Red. "Is... Is that true?"

The hooded reaper nodded. And for a few short moments, the air was still as neither the Mistrali gladiator nor the scythe-wielding maniac nor Roman himself were willing to talk. Instead, all three stood quiet, staring at one another before their gaze fell to the grass.

But, eventually, those moments passed. The Nikos girl broke the silence, taking in a deep breath before releasing it in an exhausted sigh. "In that case... I'll tell you my story _after_ you tell us yours."

The criminal stared at the redheaded warrior, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated this. "... You know what? Fine. But only if one of you two keeps Caillou back there busy. The last thing we need is for him to hear about this."

"Hear about what?"

...If he was perfectly honest, Roman Torchwick was proud of the fact that, despite the brat's sudden reappearance, the only visible reaction that he gave was a single twitch of his eye. Well, that and the logical conclusion of his palm striking against his face... but honestly, that particular gesture was more common than not at this point.

* * *

One hour.

That's how long it took for the criminal to tell his story. Everything, from his first week of incarceration at the hands of Atlas and the fruitless interrogations that Ironwood had subjected him to, to his sudden appearance inside the Terme Finance Company's private grounds, and the fruitless interrogations that the CEO had subjected him to.

Well, okay, that's not true. If he was being perfectly honest, he didn't tell them _anything_ from those particular points in his history, at least not in any meaningful detail. The specific knowledge of Atlesian interrogation techniques, as well as how much they differed from Terme's 'hospitality', were hardly anything these brats needed to know, since it wasn't relevant to the story.

What _was_ relevant, however, was the fact that he had spent the past two months in the custody of Terme Finance., forced into indentured servitude at blade point, and used as a glorified labourer for the first month or so he had been there. Sure, he glossed over some of the details there as well, but at the very least, Roman had been adamant in clarifying how much stronger the stupid company's hired hands were, due to this world's stupid magic thing. You think he tolerated the faunus living conditions willingly? He had no love for it in the past, and he had no love for it now.

Either way, after clarifying that detail of strength discrepancy, Roman's story had continued onward. After a few weeks, his role had been mysteriously changed by the CEO, as he was assigned to work with Tinkerbell for some debt-collection thing at some stupid town. And since the prospect of working with a floating nightlight that hated him was _still_ better than dealing with Terme, he jumped on instantly.

Then, really, the rest of his story fell into place. He was introduced to Recette, had to help her with her debt, helped build up that run-down shack to look more respectable... Not to mention that he stumbled into those Guild things, ran into Red, apparently gained certification as an adventurer... All that trivial stuff that didn't take long to explain.

Huh. Thinking on it now, that wasn't a whole lot of information, was it? Did he seriously take an hour to explain all that? Maybe Junior was onto something when he said that he talked to much.

... Naaah.

"Does... Does that mean you've been here for over a month?"

Red was the first to speak, her voice snapping the criminal out of his thoughts as he turned to her. He wasn't quite sure why she looked so worried, nor why her voice was so quiet compared to her usual annoying shrill, but he didn't complain. Instead, Roman merely nodded at her question, trying to hide his irritation as he did so; seriously, was the time-frame that hard to understand?

"That can't be right..." Nikos was the next to speak, her eyes narrowed as she stared downwards. "I've only been here for a few weeks, myself. A-and the last thing I remember before arriving in this town was... the breach. Only, rather than the week you said you experienced, it had only been a day for me."

"I ended up in Pensee two weeks ago..."

Of course, Red added her own little snippet of information to the pile, the seemingly random time placement contributing nothing to the mystery as Roman's eyes narrowed. From where he stood, there was absolutely no method to the madness. Sure, his memories matched up more with Pumpkin Pete's than Red's, but the two Beacon Brats had arrived at this place much later than he did.

What concerned him was that they both had ended up in this town specifically. Was it coincidence? At this point, he wasn't sure at all; Technically, it was coincidence that he had ended up here in this particular town, but it was suspicious that the two huntress-wanna-be's ended up here as well. At the same time... If the rest of their little group of idiots were stuck in other towns, then it was, once again, more likely that this entire mess _was_ coincidental to some degree.

Ugh. He had hopped that this would've given them some answers, but instead, all he got were more questi-

"So... You lied about being a Wizard?" Roman's eyes widened, as another timid voice echoed out. He had... forgotten about Caillou. Even if this story had been told for the kid's benefit as much as it had been for the two Beacon Brats, the criminal had actually forgotten about the kid's presence. Slowly, the man looked up from the dirt, turning his gaze towards the magical brat.

"Look, kid, I never once claimed to be-"

And then, Roman's words stopped. He wasn't sure why, to be honest, but... as he stared at the green-haired child, something about the kid's expression just made him stop. Maybe it was the way his eyes were widened, the colour on his face drained as the kid stared back at him, looking past the criminal rather than directly into his eye. Maybe it had something to do with how the child had let his staff fall completely, the giant stick discarded on the ground, as the young librarian slowly backed away from him.

Or maybe, just maybe... It was because the look of betrayal that had appeared on Caillou's face was more familiar to him than he would've liked to admit. In the end, it didn't matter. What mattered was that, for a single moment, Roman Torchwick had froze.

And when he did, the child ran.


	21. Week 2: An Exhaustive Search

**Week 2: An Exhaustive Search**

* * *

 _How was it still morning?  
_  
Roman didn't have the energy to voice those thoughts aloud, but they popped into his mind all the same, one more thing that prodded away at his sensibilities as he stumbled on another dead end. That wasn't to say that he didn't know why the sun had stopped doing its job or anything; Dungeons were dungeons, and the fact that they ignored basic common sense shouldn't have been a surprise to him at this point.

Still, the criminal couldn't help but shake that odd feeling he got whenever he looked skywards, especially since it was supposed to be closer to midday by now. Or some time in the afternoon, maybe? Whatever the case might've been, a considerable amount of time should've passed, since a considerable amount of time was spent searching through this damned forest dungeon, if his unkempt appearance was any indication.

Really, he didn't even need to spare a glance to know how scuffed his shoes were, undoubtedly covered in all sorts of dirt or grass stains. Likewise, the once-classy crook no longer had his immaculate hair, whatever care and effort he had spent this morning wasted as he brushed aside his loose, unkempt bangs _yet again_. And he didn't even want to think about the state of his clothing, since it was undoubtedly stained with blue slime and monster blood at this point.

But you know what the best indicator of time was? His own state of mind. Even Roman himself had noticed that he had been keeping his thoughts occupied. An idiot would've noticed, and Roman Torchwick was no idiot, so he had been painfully aware of his attempts to focus on pointless matters, as he turned his mind to trivial things like the weather, or the trees, or his current state of dress.

And yes. At the moment, even his appearance was trivial. Don't pry any further than that, okay? All the crook could do was frown at himself as he retraced his steps, withdrawing from yet another bush-filled dead end as he searched for another path.

If there was any sort of consolation to this exhaustive search, it was that he didn't have to worry about covering for anyone other than himself. After the br-... After Caillou ran off, Red, Cereal Box and himself had decided that the best way to search for the kid was if they split up for their search. Sure, the two huntress-wanna-bes thought it was a bad idea at first, but they were also apparently short-sighted.

The monsters in this place, while dangerous for a twelve-year-old searching for recognition from a pseudo-father-figure, was hardly something worth noting for the rest of them. Roman neither over- nor under-estimated his person skills, and he was equally aware of the combat capabilities of the two huntress-wanna-bes as well. Really, their greatest weakness was that they didn't understand how Dungeons worked.

He still couldn't believe that he had to waste a good twenty or so minutes just to convince them that splitting up was the best idea. Dungeons were expansive, sure, and some of them could even be labyrinthine in design, but they were always finite in size. Even the most basic adventurer book could tell you that, and though it looked like they were in some overgrown forest, there would always be only a single path that led deeper into the dungeon depths. Which was why splitting up was the best idea.

All they had to do was to make sure they had searched through the entirety of a dungeon 'floor' first, before descending to the next part of it. Which, in itself, was stupid in other ways, but Roman didn't have the time nor inclination to comment on it. Nor did he have time to explain that brand of stupidity to the two huntresses, despite their protests. In fact, the only way he could get them to agree with his plan was when he reminded them that they were two deluded fools who, rather than twenty questions, had wanted to play hero well enough to find a lost child in the middle of monster-infested woods.

The moment he worded things like that, they had immediately stopped asking him stupid questions. And now, he he didn't need to play babysitter anymore.

Which why he was now facing off against another group of useless monsters by himself. Rather than the usual slimes or gnolls that he had encountered in earlier floors, Roman had the pleasure of stumbling onto a group of giant hornets this time around. Not that they were any less annoying, since each of the creatures were about the size of a small corgi, just out of reach as they buzzed ominously from the air above.

Not that it really deterred him, since they were far less maneuverable than your usual bee, and Roman had no difficulty dealing with normal insects. Each time a hornet descended, the criminal's cane was ready for it, and the mass of aura-infused metal made quick work of the wayward insect. And just as efficiently as he was killing off those monsters, so too was he efficient in gathering those power crystals.

Honestly, he was getting more used to them now, as well as the mysterious increase in speed and reflexes that they provided. Strikes he once found difficult were trivial, while certain jumps and twists that would've been inconvenient in the past were now far easier to perform. Really, as he weaved and stabbed through the cloud of giant hornets, the thief felt more and more distant from his previous difficulties.

He frowned at that thought.

As useful as his new reflexes were, he simply couldn't allow himself to grow accustomed to it. Moving faster was one thing, certainly, but there was a difference between an improvement based on refining your technique, and an improvement based on absorbing magical nonsense crystals. Just because he was moving faster now didn't mean he was moving _better_ or more efficiently, just that he was getting a bigger and bigger handicap.

The criminal's eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze back to one of the many hornets, watching their motions with rapt attention. Were they really less maneuverable than a normal bee? Or did he just think that they were, solely because of his newfound perception and strength?

... Ultimately, he didn't have time nor the luxury to question it right now. Gauging his actual strength was useful, sure, and definitely something he'd have to focus on in the future, but the man knew that there was something more important to worry about right now. Without wasting another moment, Roman focused his aura into his body, kicking off the ground in a sudden burst of speed as he lunged straight towards the closest hornet, with his cane drawn and ready to strike.

Then, he flew to the second-closest. Then the third. Minutes later, he was finished, and ignored the lilting chime of power crystals as it rose from the field of monsters, already moving on to the next dungeon path.

* * *

"Did you find him?"

As Roman Torchwick returned from his search, the concerned voice of a certain hooded huntress-in-training greeted him. Not that he was surprised to see that Red had already finished her part of the search, what with her Semblance and all that.

He gave his answer wordlessly, a single shake of his head the only response as he turned to face the girl. He didn't need to say more than that, nor did he need Red to say anything in return, as her expression quickly informed him that she was just as successful as he was. So, rather than question her further, the criminal remained silent, completely unenthusiastic as he waited for the final member of their impromptu trio.

Of course, just because he was waiting for that violent redhead to show didn't mean he was going to waste any time. Instead, the criminal quickly made his way to the center of the clearing, one hand immediately reaching into his pouch as he stepped through the field of grass and monster debris. At the very least, he could get some reading done, and now that he was back at the meeting point, there was simply no reason not to.

Not like he could do anything else here. The room they had chosen was almost like any other that populated this stupid forest dungeon, in that it held absolutely nothing interesting except for one key difference. And as interesting as a dungeon exit portal was, it wasn't like the criminal could _do_ anything with it. As useful as the portal was in being a landmark, they couldn't exactly use it until they were certain the kid wasn't on the current floor. That was about the only reason why Roman bothered to wait around in the company of Red.

"M-maybe I should try searching again. I might've missed something from my side or something." Speaking of Red, it was clear that unlike himself, she had absolutely nothing to occupy herself. So really, it wasn't all that surprising when she began to fidget in place, her brow furrowed in doubt as she shot a worried glance at the four pathway that led in and out of the clearing. "Or maybe he was hiding in one of the bushes I couldn't get to, except that I actually could get to it and I just didn't check, or..."

"Seriously, Red? You do this _every single time_." Roman punctuated his words, giving the huntress-in-training a single pointed stare as he released a heavy sigh, one that was most certainly exaggerated. "And then you convince yourself that you didn't actually miss anything. If you're going to doubt yourself like that, at least do it somewhere where I can't hear you. Actually, aren't you huntresses supposed to be shortsightedly sure of yourselves or something?"

He stared at her for a few moments, letting the words sink in as he rolled his eyes, only to turn his attention back to his book. Sure, insulting the brat might not have been as productive as gleaning more information about the dungeon, but an irritated child was still more bearable than one that constantly muttered to herself.

"...Yeah, you're right." And yet, contrary to what he expected, the girl seemed to cheer up at his words, a slight smile forming on her face as she turned to face him. "I should have more faith in myself. A-and it's not like doubting myself will make things better. I did already doublecheck, after all!"

Another sigh escaped the crook's lips, and all he could do was shake his head in silence as he turned his attention away from the girl. Sure. Delusion works as well. Rather than waste anymore time and effort in correcting the brat's misconceptions, Roman turned his attention back to the dungeon book. Just one of the many tomes that Caillou had recommended to him, and maybe this one had some sort of hint as to where the kid was hiding. Or, at the very least, some information of monsters.

Really, he was just trying to be productive while they waited for Cereal Box to return.

"Hey, Roman?"

So close. He was _this close_ to being productive. He was actually quite proud that he had been able to read a full two pages before he was interrupted. "... What do you want, Red?"

"What type of person is Caillou?" It was an innocent question in its own right, and one that he could almost understand. After all, it wasn't like Red knew anything about the child, beyond that ridiculous Adventurer class thing a week or so ago. "I-I mean, sure, he works at the guild. But you also said that he was just a child and stuff. And it also seemed like he was asking you a lot of questions about things, and he was also a bit immature since he kept calling me a brat and a shorty, and and-"

"Red." He didn't even have the will to raise his voice anymore, and calmly closed his book in a single deliberate gesture as he turned to face her. "Can you please _get to the point?_ "

"O-okay!" The hooded girl almost squeaked out her response, and stared at the exit portal for a few moments before finally speaking out again. "I just wanted to know... Why did you come into this dungeon with him?"

"That is something that I would like to know, as well."

And so arrived the other redheaded moron of Beacon. Roman wasn't even surprised by her sudden appearance, and as Pyrrha Nikos stepped into view, the criminal spared her only a single glance. However, the Mistrali's response to the crook was far less passive, and there was a hint of venom in her voice as she shot a pointed glare at Roman. "What exactly are you planning, Torchwick?"

"Why, whatever are you talking about? I'm sure that even you can understand what sort of link adventurers and dungeons have." Understandably, he saw absolutely no reason to answer the Mistrali's question. Heck, he was barely tempted to answer Red, since the reason why this entire misunderstanding occurred in the first place was because of these two idiots. "Since both Caillou and I are adventurers, I'm sure you understand why we might've chosen to explore a dungeon like this. Really, if you think about it, I was just helping him."

" _Bullshit._ " The champion practically seethed, her hands tightening around her spear as her eyes narrowed at him. That... was unexpected. Roman honestly wasn't aware that the walking product placement was capable of getting upset, and yet... It was clear that there was hostility in the girl's tone, and he could feel a bit of the girl's aura rise up as she took a step forward. "You think we forgot the Breach? Criminals like you don't help people."

"P-Pyrrha, wait!" It was so bad that even Red dull wits felt it, and the hooded girl immediately turned to face her classmate, fear and alarm quite clear in her eyes as she held up her hands in protest. "I know Roman was a criminal back in Vale-"

"Was!?"

"B-but he's better now! Honest!"

He had to admit, Pumpkin Pete had a surprising amount of restraint. When Red talked over her, Roman could've sworn the spear-wielder would've turned her hate to her friend. Yet, she had enough restraint to hold back some of her aggression, and only scared the hooded brat with a half-glare instead.

"Why? Why do you keep... making excuses for him, Ruby?" Her words were more measured, and the girl had finally decided to put her weapon away as she spoke. "After all he's done, how can you just...?"

"Because!" But as the Mistrali's unsteady voice trailed off, the silence was replaced by Red's irritatingly loud conviction. "Because they're not excuses! They're the truth! Y-you also heard it from him, right? How he's been helping out Recette with her debt ever since he got here in Pensee?"

"He also said that he was forced to-"

" _No he wasn't!_ " The volume that Red yelled that even caught him off guard, her voice cracking for a moment as she turned to face her friend completely, and all Roman could do was give the hooded huntress a silent, surprised stare. Yet, her next words were barely audible, a stark contrast to her first shout as she stared at the ground. "... Have you seen Tear? She's just a fairy, smaller than even Zwei. And Recette's so young, I don't know if she'd even be allowed in Signal. If Roman really wanted to... If he really didn't care about them, and wanted to just leave, they wouldn't be able to stop him."

Okay, now was the time to tune out. Honestly, while he could put up with some of Red's delusions of him, the way she presented them this time were so far off the mark that it honestly made him... uncomfortable. Was that weird? That was really weird, right? He honestly hadn't seen someone believe such baseless lies since his giant speech with the White Fang, and even then, some of them had an inkling of doubt. But Red?

"But he didn't leave. He stayed, for the sake of a little girl who lived alone by herself, just to make sure she could pay off her dad's debt."

For whatever reason, she had absolute faith in him. And as a result, Roman was quiet. He forced himself to be, just as he forced himself to ignore the prattling that the hooded idealistic moron continued spouting out. Was what happened last night _really_ that interesting? Of course it wasn't.

Maybe there were still some monsters around or something. Those giant hornets had a paralytic venom, right? Perhaps he could just paralyze his eardrums and not listen to the kid's deluded praises.

... Of course, self-delusion was never healthy either, and the criminal quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind, as he willed himself to focus on something else. Maybe the charred monster corpses that still surrounded the field? Or what about the book in his hands? Oh! Or the dungeon portals that led to the next level! Literally anything would've been better than sitting here, listening to Red while they waited for...

Wait a minute.

Roman blinked, before turning back towards the two huntress-wanna-bes. "Hey, Red! Rather than spouting that nonsense, don't you think it'd be better if we got going?"

Both paused for just a moment, and the two huntresses looked at him with confusion in their eyes. At least he had managed to put a stop to their pointless conversation. Without skipping a beat, the criminal gestured towards the more violent redhead, as he urged them onward. "Since Pumpkin Pete's here, and since she didn't bring back Caillou, I think it's clear that she wasn't about to find him either. That means he's deeper in the dungeon, which means we should hurry up and find him before something bad happens, right?"

For some reason, he found himself emphasizing his last few words. Of course, that reason was obviously because he was building on the terrible deluded image that Red had of himself, and the only reason he did so was to convince the two idiots to hurry up. Still, without waiting for their response, he rose to his feet, pocketing his book once more as he turned towards the portal.

"Y-You're right!" Red reacted first, bouncing back from whatever her previous mood was as she immediately hopped over to Roman. Well, not immediately—he didn't miss the whispered 'You see?' she sent to the other redhead.

As for the spear-wielding maniac? She also seemed to agree with him, as she had been unable to put up any sort of rebuttal or complaint in response to his words. Instead, the CCTV poster-child of Mistral gave him a slow nod as she stepped forward, moving to the spot beside her friend. "... You're right. We cannot afford to delay much longer."

"So which portal do we take?"

"... What?" Red's sudden question caught the crook off-guard, and he couldn't help but give the girl a blank stare. "What sort of question is that? Obviously, we take the portal down."

"B-but... What if he returned to the adventurer's guild?" Red continued, her words filled with concern and doubt as she turned away from the dungeon portal, towards the prominent dimensional door that stood beside it.

Oh, right. He ignored it the first time around, but in addition to the dungeon portal downwards, the field also contained a familiar magical door. Just like the one that had been at the bottom of the Hall of Trials, the portal located in dimensional door was just a quick passage that allowed adventurers to return to the Adventurer's Guild. Honestly, Red's concerns never crossed Roman's mind, simply because of how utterly pointless it was to consider it.

And even if he was concerned, it was still a fact that the door itself had absolutely no bearing on what sort of decision they had to make. Without wasting another moment, Roman promptly turned to face the confused scythe-wielder.

"Let me put it in a way you can understand, alright?" He decided to be deliberately condescending, if only to deflate Red's perception of him, but the girl had absolutely no reaction. Cereal Box was a different matter entirely, of course, but he didn't exactly care about that detail. "If he decided to return through the big red doors, then we can assume that he's perfectly fine, right? _Riiiight?_ "

He gave an exaggerated gesture with his hand, and received a slow nod from an equally slow girl in return.

"But what if he didn't? I don't know if you two bothered to do your homework, but Jade Way's _slightly_ bigger and _slightly_ more dangerous than the stupid test dungeon back in the Guild. The smart thing to do would be to head down anyways, to make sure the kid didn't get hurt." After all, if they were lucky, then Caillou would've returned to the Guild, and the only thing they would've lost from their continued adventure was a bit of time and effort.

But really, Roman was never lucky, and he certainly wasn't expecting any favours now.

More than that... Well, kids were stupid and the criminal knew that fact more than anyone else. He understood it, too—far more than these deluded Beacon brats could hope to, at any rate—and if the expression that Caillou wore was any indication of his state of mind... The thief shook his head, his voice unexpectedly dry as he turned his attention back to Red. "Does it help anyone if 'maybe' he returned to the Guild? Do you really want to risk his life on a 'maybe'? This place isn't exactly a playground, you know."

And to prove his point, the man slowly gestured back to the field, a light action that reminded the two huntresses-in-training of the burnt and faded monster carcasses. That was more than enough quiet Red, and from the corner of Roman's eyes, he saw the girl's expression fall further.

"She was only voicing an optimistic possibility." The Mistrali spoke up, moving in defense of her friend, though her words were less confrontational than he had expected. Not that it changed anything, and her blind faith in half-hearted hopes were just more reason Roman disliked huntsmen in general. He let that particular sentiment show on his face, completely unamused as he stared at the naive champion. In return, the green-eyed teenager met his stare with one of her own, not backing down as she stood defiantly beside Red. "While we must always be prepared for the worst-case scenario, surely that's no reason not to hope for the best, right?"

They stood in silence. Roman stared at the girl, and she stared back. Her eyes were resolution, so full of colour and conviction, and the criminal felt the corner of his mouth twitch in irritation.

"Whatever you say, brat."

There was no point in this, and the criminal turned away from the stupid staring contest. Time was precious, and the longer they wasted arguing about pointless delusions, the more likely it was that Caillou might've stumbled on some form of danger. So rather than drag on the argument any further, Roman merely gave the girl one last glance, his motions deliberate as he stepped into the second portal.

"... Must be nice, thinking that you can prepare for 'the worst-case scenario'."

And just like that, the forest faded away in a flash of light.


	22. Week 2: Darkened Depths

**Week 2: Darkened Depths**

* * *

The criminal couldn't help but frown as he stepped out of the portal, his face tensing as he slipped into the next part of the dungeon. Sure, he hadn't exactly been smiling before he entering that blindingly bright light, but whatever thoughts of discontent Roman had were amplified the moment his foot hit the ground.

Really, why did it have to be caves?

Even before his eyes had adjusted to his surroundings, the crook recognized the stale air, stagnant and clammy as it clung to his senses with a terrible familiarity. Honestly, between the dampness, the backstabbing animals, and the constant chilling darkness, Roman had never really been a fan of cave systems. And that was _before_ his criminal career; after changing his line of work, he had learned to appreciate tunnels a bit more, but he certainly didn't enjoy them, and adding White Fang mutts to the experience just made it that much uncomfortable.

Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about the White Fang with this particular cave system. Instead, the criminal had the unenviable task of dealing with whatever the dungeon thought was appropriate for cave monsters. Without missing a beat, the white-suited swindler stepped to the side, twisting his body away in one fluid motion, just in time to avoid some monstrous bat-thing's reckless charge.

Well, okay, he didn't exactly avoid it. As the small leathery creature dove at him, Roman brought his cane back behind his head, only to swing it back forward and downward a moment later, metal striking flesh with a wet impact and pitiful squeak as the bat creature careened into the cavern floor.

To the creature's credit, the bat recovered quickly, the tiny flaps of its leathery wings beating against the air as it fought to right itself up, before turning back to face the criminal with a pointed glare. And really, the man knew the monster was glaring at him, because Eyebat's singular eye was creased in unrestrained anger, its eyelid almost comically angled in a cartoon-ish frown.

That tone didn't last for long, however, and the creature's pupil flashed for a split-second. That little hint was more than enough for the criminal to quickly duck out of the way, his motions fueled by equal parts instinct and common sense, and moments later, a burst of energy shot forth from the winged eyeball. A ring of magical power flew through the air, leaving a trail of heat and sparks as it tore into the empty spot where the suited criminal had stood only moments ago.

But, unfortunately for the bat, Roman was no longer there. Instead, the criminal had slipped up beside the tiny yellow creature, his cane already flashing into motion as he drove the metallic bludgeon directly into creature's eye. A pained squeal rose up from the monster, but the crook ignored the cry as he brought his weapon forward again and again, each of his aura-fueled strikes deliberate and surgical as Roman quickly quelled the little irritant.

Just like that, as abruptly as it had begun, the little skirmish had ended, as the monster promptly exploded into a burst of gems, gore, and failure. Really, it had only lasted for a few seconds, and Roman couldn't help but be a bit smug as he saw the mysterious power crystals fly towards him. After all, he got to relieve a little bit of his stress, and the two Beacon Brats hadn't even arrived yet!

Oh, what do you know? The moment he had thought that, a flash of light erupted from the portal, and the two red-haired idiots stepped out of th-

Roman's eyes narrowed as he turned to the new arrival. Singular. It was almost comedic, the way the armoured Mistrali blinked her eyes in obvious confusion, evidently not expecting her new cave-like environments. Unfortunately for her, Torchwick was not really in the mood to waste time, and his next words were laced with irritation. "...Where the hell is Red?"

Blank green eyes turned to face him, the marshmallow mascot reacting more to his voice than his frown as he crossed his arms. Still, to her credit, those eyes weren't blank for all that long, and despite her lack of sight, the Mistrali champion wasted no time in quelling her disorientation as she settled into a cautious stance.

"What did you do, Torchwick?" Of course, what little credit she had earned quickly faded away as the brash little brat drew her weapon, her voice thick with hostility as she glared at him. Or, well, glared at his general direction.

"Oh, you know..." Roman's own tone was laced with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes, his hand casually waving at the scene around them. These gestures were more for his benefit than anything else though, since the little gladiator was still hilariously blind and hilariously defenseless. "I decided I didn't like the forest look that much, so I replaced everything with a _freaking cave system_. Why the hell do you think it's my fault?"

Pumpkin Pete froze at those words, but kept a firm grip on her spear as she tried to refocus on the criminal, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness around them. Eventually, the huntress-wannabe relaxed her stance, and finally sheathed her weapon when she realized that they were in a stupid cave.

"You know what? Never mind." Again, Roman rolled his eyes, though he was somewhat certain that she could see the gesture this time. "Just tell me where Red is. It's annoying enough trying to keep track of _one_ lost brat in this place."

Cereal Box gave him another look, though this one was much less hostile than her previous ones. Rather, her face seem genuinely surprised by his words, and she stared at him in silence for a few moments longer. Only a few moments, though, since Roman quickly cleared his throat, returning her gaze with a deadpan stare.

"O-oh." The gladiator quickly caught herself, turning away from Roman as she glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes falling onto the portal exit that she stepped out of. "Ruby said that she wanted to check the Adventurer's Guild, just to be sure that Caillou wasn't there."

"Ugh... Why am I not surprised?" Torchwick sighed, unable to muster up much more of a response than that, a scowl forming on his face as he brought a hand upwards. He knew from experience he couldn't will a migraine away, but that didn't stop him from trying, and as the man slowly massaged his temple, he gave the Mistrali an annoyed stare. "Please tell me Red had more of a plan to go on than that."

"What do you mean?" The confused redhead turned back to face him, not quite sure what he was getting at.

Roman's migraine grew, and he held back the urge to throw something at the brat. "... I mean, did Red have some sort of plan in mind _after_ finding out whether or not Caillou was back at the guild? We can't exactly use our scrolls, you know."

Her only response was silence.

* * *

"Seriously, don't they teach you brats _anything_ at that stupid school?" Roman complained, making no effort to hide his mood as they stepped through the winding cavern's corridors. Well, corridor; lucky for them, this little cave was far more linear than the forested fields in the previous area, and keeping track of where they had been was far easier this time around. "You shouldn't need a fancy huntsman school to tell you how important fallback plans are."

"Gah!" With that said, Pumpkin Pete wasn't exactly in a position to respond.

It was clear to Roman that the students who attended Vale's deluded hero school were incompetent in more ways than one. While that would've been fine any other day of the week, today was not a day where he could afford that sort of negligence; for good or ill, he and Cereal Box had to cover eachother's back, and the girl's initial reaction to complete darkness did not instill him with confidence.

As a result, it fell to the magnanimous Roman Torchwick to teach this stupid brat how to properly carry herself, at least when it came to fighting blind. The rogue wasted no time in asserting this fact, and while the girl had initially protested his evaluation, it didn't take more than a few choice words—as well as a few low-flying pebbles—to get his point across. By the end of their discussion, Mistrali's touted champion was reduced to a front-line grunt for Vale's most wanted, and Roman enjoyed every moment of it. After all, he hated doing the heavy lifting.

"Oh, by the way, you're about to hit a wall."

"What?"

With a dull thud and the screech of an angry eyebat, Beacon's brightest star was knocked off her feet. Which was another perk of the job; it was just entertaining to see the normally-smug face of Mistral struggle against the most trivial of threats, especially since these sorts of things people picked up when they were a child. At least, he did. Heh. Not to mention the fact that he could disguise her laughable attempts as training, which only served to push his amusement further.

Still, with all that said and done, Roman couldn't fathom how _the_ Pyrrha Nikos could be so bad. After all, she was the loudest huntress promoted by the most annoying advertising company this side of Vale, yet she was clearly fighting like a novice. Was it just because she had only fought in controlled arenas up until now? Or perhaps it was something related to the fact that her exhibition matches only involved people.

... No, that couldn't be it. She should've still had some experience with fighting grimm, and mindless magical bats weren't too different from your average hate-filled monstrosity. Besides, he'd seen those fancy Mistrali arenas as well as the next person, and non-standard conditions wasn't a foreign concept to those things. At least in the matches he'd witnessed, the Nikos brat never really had problems with fighting against people in pitch darkness.

Well, whatever it was, it didn't seem to bother her for too long. Despite her troubles early on, the red-haired huntress-wannabe was a fast learner, and it didn't take her too long to deal with this threat. Ultimately, the girl had defeated the floating eye-bat, and the tiny creature gave a final squeaky cry as it exploded into power crystals. The girl, for her part, didn't seem too winded, as she mentally took stock of her little brawl.

" _Congratulations._ " Of course, this little 'victory' warranted a 'celebration'. The criminal wasted no time with his words, his tone exaggerated as he brought his gloved hands together, a dull clap sounding through the darkness as he practically sneered at her. "You've managed solve that little problem in... oh, I'd say two minutes. And you didn't even use your semblance, did you?"

"... Thank you."

"Wait, what?" Roman stopped, his previous expression falling away as he stared at the girl. And really, could you blame him? The criminal was good at reading people, and all of his experience told him that, despite his barbed tone and sarcastic words, the girl had been completely genuine in her response.

"I... appreciate the instruction you have given me." The Mistrali champion clarified herself. Her words were a bit stilted, but they still rang out all the same, and her green eyes fell on Roman's as she stared at the criminal. "Even if your tone was a bit sarcastic, you provided crucial information all the same, and I woul-"

"Okay, _**no.**_ Stop right there." Roman was _not_ having this, and his voice rose up well before she could finish her words. Sure, Red's misconceptions sorta made sense, since she was a naive brat who wanted to be a pointlessly stupid hero, but he knew that same couldn't be said of Pumpkin Pete. At the very least, she was smarter than that, wasn't she? "You and I both know that I'm doing this purely for my benefit."

"... You are?" Pyrrha's next words were a bit more muted, her eyes narrowing a bit as she stared at the criminal.

"Of _course_ I am." And the criminal made no effort to hide it, as neither his inaudible body language nor his very-audible scoff did anything to refute her words. Did she honestly think that he was choosing to help her out from the goodness of his heart? "Who do you think benefits the most from you knowing how to fight in the dark?"

At those words, he stared at the girl, completely smug in his words. Sure, at first, that might sound like a stupid question, and one that immediately benefited Pyrrha rather than himself. After all, didn't he just teach her a new combat technique?

Of course not! He pointed out a critical flaw in her existing combat style, and forced herself to reconsider it. That, in turn, meant that any immediate conflict between them would have her distracted on that particular flaw, and that she'd try to account for it—subconsciously or otherwise. Not only that, but Roman's prior experience with fighting Huntsmen was more then enough to teach him how much trained fighters relied on their senses and reflexive impulses. Having a distracted mind—say one that's constantly trying to correct a known flaw—gives the criminal far more opportunity to exploit it.

To say nothing of the fact that he hadn't actually told her how to _fix_ her problem. Then, if you factor in how well-known her fighting style is, compared to how little she knew of his own combat techniques, it was clear that he'd have a complete advantage in any sort of engagement between them. That's why Roman made no effort to hide his smug expression, and the criminal merely sent a knowing smile at the stupid little beacon brat.

"I see." The girl closed her eyes, nodding for a few moments as she took in a deep breath.

Good. The last thing he needed was another misunderstanding that-

"Thank you." Pumpkin Pete repeated herself, and Roman's eye twitched. She must've caught this gesture, as she gave him a slight smirk of her own, evidently coming to her own baseless conclusions as she stared at him. "I know that teaching me wouldn't benefit you in the slightest. After all, you could've just left me alone to die here, and escaped on your own."

 _"Of course not._ " Roman was very sincere about that point. And he didn't know why the girl seemed so surprised by his admission.

Was it really that hard of a concept to understand? It didn't take a genius to know that Red would've immediately suspected him if Cereal Box here died due to mysterious circumstances. And while he could've lied to the hooded brat, there was no guarantee he could've maintained it for the entire duration of his stay in this stupid world, since he didn't know how long he'd need to use Recette's store as a cover.

On the other hand, telling someone their fighting style is flawed without giving them any sort of direction is a great way to disrupt their training regiment in general. People doubt themselves all the time, and if they don't have access to proper resources that address their issues, they _will_ make an uninformed mistake. Usually one they'll regret, if his experience is anything to go by.

"... I guess Ruby was right about you."

"How the hell do you figure that?" Roman was barely restrained in his words, his teeth clenched as he almost hissed the words. No, he was _not_ having this. Teenagers were stupid, sure, but they weren't _this_ stupid, were they? Fortunately, he still had one more card to play. It might've been a tad illogical for him to play it, since, by all accounts, this misunderstanding benefited him... But seriously, these brats with their stupid idealistic delusions made him sick.

So, without missing a beat, he spoke out once again, completely pushing away any doubts she might've had about his character. "You said it yourself that I caused the breach, right?"

And it did the trick.

At his words, Nikos fell silent, her eyes widening for a just a few moments as she realized what he had said. The world around them dimmed next, the air growing heavy at the change of tone, and only the faint shuffles of distant monsters broke the deafening quiet.

"You..." Until the girl's voice creaked out again. Unsteady this time, and far less sure of herself.

"Yes, me." Finally, he was getting through to her. Finally, this useless dialogue of verbal dancing could come to an end. She can get back to hating his guts, and he can get back to ignoring these brats properly. Honestly, the last thing he needed was _another_ child misunderstanding him and building up false expectations. After all, look at what had happened with Caillou. "It was me, so why don't you take your idealistic tripe and-"

"You were forced to, weren't you?"

"... No. You know what? _No._ I'm done with this." And just like that, Roman stood up, straightened himself, and left.

This was dumb. Dumb and hilariously stupid, and Roman was sick of it all. Even the White Fang weren't this delusional, yet the two brats of Beacon seemed completely set on ignoring facts in favour of convoluted half-truths. Yes, sure, he _was_ forced to do it, but what did that matter? Even if he hadn't been approached by Cinder, would he still have committed the Breach, and worked with White Fang terrorists for their pointless goals?

Okay, ignore the fact that the answer to that question was a no—He wasn't suicidal, after all.

Regardless, the point was, even if he hadn't been forced in this stupid situation with Cinder, Roman Torchwick was a criminal all the same. And more to the point, he was completely unrepentant of that fact, because it allowed him to live life the way it was _meant_ to be. Being a criminal meant that he kept himself alive, by himself, for himself. It was a lesson he had learned a long time ago, and one that he held to heart. Nothing could change this fact.

No matter how many childish delusions you threw at it.

* * *

Their search through the dungeon was conducted in silence.

Part of the reason for this silence was because of how straightforward their search had been up to this point; since these caverns were mostly linear, searching through branching paths was a quick affair, and one that didn't require effort. More importantly, they were now on the tenth floor, and the moment they had entered, the two had found an important clue which greatly hastened their search: corpses.

Well, okay, corpses, and a distinct lack of monsters. Unlike the previous floors, the corpses here were mostly fresh, and the dungeon hadn't repopulated the fallen monsters. Roman wasn't quite sure about the exact science or mechanics behind monster population, but conventional adventurer wisdom attributed it to time. Which meant that they had caught up to _someone_. That in itself was worth being silent about, right? Right? ... Right.

Okay. No getting around it. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had actually happened, and hiding the fact would probably just get Neo on his case or something. The main reason for the awkward silence was because of how _stupid_ Roman felt about his previous outburst.

Look, this is the third time he's saying it, but these caverns were linear. That meant that, even if he _had_ stomped out in a fit of frustration—not saying he did—there was only really one way he could go. So, unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for Cereal Box to catch up. Fortunately, she had remained silent on the issue, which helped the crook forget about the entire thing, but it didn't change the fact that he had unceremoniously dropped the previous conversation, only to have the other participant of the conversation appear up moments later.

Honestly, it was a good thing that they were finally stumbling towards the end of their search.

And to accentuate this fact, the moment that thought entered his mind, a loud explosion echoed through the rocky tunnels. The distant sound of monstrous snarls immediately erupted after the echoing burst, before they were finally followed by angry cries of a very-childish voice. Whatever doubts the two might've had about their destination were quickly dashed, and Roman didn't bother giving the Mistrali a second glance.

Instead, he merely grunted once, before quickly breaking into a measured sprint, as he wove through the darkened passages with ease. Lithe footsteps followed behind him, informing the criminal of the huntress-in-training's presence as she cleanly matched his speed. With each step and bound, the two drew closer to the source of the noise, as quaking roars echoed alongside bursts of flame and the clashes of metal.

That... second one didn't make much sense. Didn't the brat use a wooden staff? Why exactly was there metal?

"Elan!"

Caillou's voice rose through the darkness, accompanied by another monstrous roar as metal clashed again with metal. This time, the sound of battle was far louder, and the two denizens of Remnant wasted no time in finding the source.

The tunnel spilled out into a large, rocky cavern, and within moments, Roman Torchwick and Pyrrha Nikos found themselves inside the spacious room. Stalagmites and stalactites dotted the edges of the cavernous hall, the rocky spires humming with ethereal lights that illuminated the entire cavern, bathing everything with an unnerving red glow.

But more important than the dungeon layout, however, was the dungeon denizen itself; at the other end of the room stood a gargantuan figure. Its back was turned towards them, but there was no doubting the beast's magical origins, as the creature released a terrible cry. The sound reverberated through the entire room, and loose rocks seemed to fall from the ceiling as it stomped around with heavy footfalls. By all accounts, the creature would've been worrying, were it not for one key fact that they couldn't ignore.

"Is..." Pumpkin Pete's voice rose up, partially from concern, but mostly from confusion as she stared at the creature. "Is that a giant rat? Wearing a sweater vest?"

Yep. By all accounts, the giant creature should've been terrifying. However, Roman simply couldn't ignore the absurdity of the beast; its rat tail swished around in the air, seemingly more for decoration than anything else, and there was no mistaking the creature's silhouette. From the shaped ears to the scraggly fur, from the monster's poofy scarf to the monster's poofy legs, the cartoon-ish existence of the creature quickly dispelled whatever tensions were built up by the room.

"Oi, kid! Please tell me you're not having troubles with this thing!" Seriously, Torchwick couldn't help but quip at the situation. After all, he had been worried about the brat, and yet instead of some dungeon horror, he was here struggling against some horrible reject of a cartoon mascot. Just what exactly was-

And then the rat turned around.

The beast released a terrible snarl, its cry resonating through the very air as the room trembled once again. The sound alone was enough to chill the criminal's blood, and he immediately quelled his initial mood. Sure, the massive, three-meter-long cleaver was definitely enough to give him pause, but that wasn't the _main_ reason why Roman had stopped.

No. The reason why Roman had stopped was because he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rat, taking in the sight of its monstrous face as it focused back at them. Mottled black fur gradually bled into an ominous black, and one of its beady eyes bore at them with a frenzied stare. Yet, more chilling than that was the other eye, buried inside an abyss of darkness and layered beneath a malformed ivory mask. Less than half of the rat's face wore this mask, but neither denizens of Remnant could tear their gaze away from the mask.

How could they? To Roman Torchwick and Pyrrha Nikos, the bone-white plate and blood-red engravings were unmistakable.

Slowly, the two combatants gathered themselves, aura flaring as they gradually took in that dark visage. And, just as slow, that spark finally woke to their presence, the light in the monster's eyes gleaming with hate as it glared back at them with renewed vigor.


End file.
